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RE> . HENRY MARTYN, 



LATE FtLLOW 01' 



ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE^ CAMBRIDGE, 



AxND CHAPLAIN TO THE 



HONORABLE EAST INDIA COMPANY. 



BY THE Rev* Joliii Sargent, a. .m- 

RECTOR OF LAVINGTON. 



rnox THE TEXTH LOXDOX EDITION. 

PHIL AOSIiPHIA S 

K. LITTELL, CHESNUT STKEEt. 

1831. 



-^^ € 



MEMOIR 



REY. HENRY MARTYN. 



«TEREOTYrED BV L. JOHNSON.— fEENCII & CO. TRINTKaS. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

PAOS. 
Early life of Henry Martyn — ^His successful academical 
career . « 13 



CHAPTER IL 

His advancement in piety— College employments'— Decides 
on becoming a Missionary — His Ordination., ^ ^ «.,••.•• • 26 

CHAPTER in. 

Commencement of his Ministerial labors — Collegiate 
Duties — ^Applies for a Chaplainship under the East India 
Company — 'Visits Cornwall — ^His sufferings on leaving 
England , ,, ,. ... ' 54 

CHAPTER IV. 

Departure from England — Occurrences during his Voyage 
— ^At St. Salvador — and at the Cape of Good Hope— Ar- 
rives at Madras — and at Calcutta ,,...,.> 100 

CHAPTER V. 

Mr. Martyn's arrival at Calcutta — ^Residence at Aldeen— ^ 
Preaches at Calcutta — Ts appointed at Dinapore — Leaves 
Calcutta—Journal of his voyage up the Hoogley and 
Ganges * - .....,,. 144 

CHAPTER VI. 

Mr. Martyn is fixed at Dinapore — Commences his Ministry 
— Translations— Disputes with his Moonshee and Pundit 
-Difficulties respecting the Schools — His happiness in 

the work of Translation ^ . 

A3 



CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Mr. Martyn receives intelligence of the death of his eldost 
Sister— Letters to his friends — Is removed to Cawnpore 
■—Hears of the death of his youngest Sister — Determines 
to visit Arahia and Persia — Leaves Cawnpore for Cal- 
cutta' — Departs for Arahia 208 

CHAPTER Vra. 

Mr. Martyn Leaves Bengal for Shiraz— Occurrences du- 
ring his journey— Arrives at Shiraz— Commences a Nov 
Translation'— Discussions with the Persian Moollahs, ... 258 

CHAPTER IX. 

First Public Discussion at Shimz — Mr. Martyn replies to a 
Defence of Mahometanism — Interview with the Head of 
the Soofies — Visits Persepolis — Translations — Discus- 
sions 28r 

CHAPTER X. 

Mr. Martyn leaves Shiraz in order to lay before the king 
his Translation of the New Testament — Arrives at the 
<samp — ^Is not admitted to an audience — Proceeds to Te- 
briz — Severe illne&s , , . 328 

CHAPTER XI. 

Mr. Martyn commences his journey homewards, by way of 
Constantinople— Visits Ech-Miazin— Suffers^rom Fever 
— ^Dies at Tocat, in Persia — View of his Character — 
Coiftclusion 349 

Aftekdix ##»«..•«. , 379 



INTRODUCTION. 



Before the reader proceeds to the perusal of the fol- 
lowing Memoir, it may be proper to inform him, that the 
first and second parts of it have been chiefly selected from 
various journals, which Mr. Martyn was in the habit of 
keeping, for his own private use ; and which, beginning 
with the year 1803, comprehended a period of eight years. 
The third part is extracted from an account which he drew 
up of his visit to Shiraz in Persia ; in which some occasional 
observations on the state of his own mind and feelings are 
interspersed. It is termed ' A Narrative,' by Mr. Martyn : 
and it was probably his intention to have enlarged it, for 
the use of the public, had his life been spared — or, perhaps, 
to have communicated it, nearly in its original shape, to 
his intimate friends. From the style and manner of it, at 
least, it may be presumed not to have been exclusively 
intended, as the journals above-mentioned evidently were, 
for his own recollection and benefit. The greater part of 
the last-mentioned papers were upon the point of being 
destroyed by the writer on his undertaking his voyage to 
Persia; but, happily, he was prevailed upon by the Rev. 
D. Corrie to confide them, under a soal, to his care; and 
by him they were transmitted from India to the Rev. 



viii 



INTRODUCTION. 



C. Simeon and J. Thornton, Esq., Mr. Martyn's executors, 
in the year 1814, 'The Narrative/ which was sent, by 
Mr. Morier, from Constantinople, came into their hands in 
the following year. Such are the materials from which I 
have compiled the present Memoir — throughout the whole 
of which, I have endeavored, as much as possible, to let 
Mr. Martyn speak for himself, and thus to exhibit a genu- 
ine picture of his own mind. 

In making a selection from a mass of such valuable mat- 
ter, it has been my anxious wish and sincere prayer, that it 
might prove subservient to the interests of true religion. — 
One principal object with me has been, to render it bene- 
ficial to those disinterested ministers of the gospel, who, 
**with the Bible in their hand, and their Saviour in their 
hearts," devote themselves to the great cause for which 
Mr. Martyn lived and died : and, truly, if the example 
here delineated should excite any of those servants of 
Christ to similar exertion, or if it should animate and en 
courage them, amidst the multiplied difficulties of their ar 
duous course, my labour will receive an eminent and abun 

dant recompense. 

J. S. 



5? a 31?^ (3 a 

TO THE TENTH LONDON EDITION . 

In a Tenth Edition it certainly is tardy — at any period 
it probably would have been fruitless — to attempt the coun- 
teraction of an impression, not uncommon with the reader, 
that the subject of this work was of o, gloomy tempera- 
ment, and that his religion assumed a desponding character. 
Late, however, as this declaration is — ineffectual as, per- 
haps, it will be — I am anxious to testify, from intimate 
personal knowledge, that this opinion is founded in com- 
plete misconception. Few persons, if any, known to me, 
have equalled him in the enjoyment of that *' peace which 
passeth all understanding" — few have possessed so animat- 
ing and abiding an expectation of life and immortality. 
Those who are disposed to question this statement, from the 
strain of deep self-abasement which he perpetually adopts, 
do, in my judgment, convert what is a substantial proof of 
the assertion, into an ill-founded objection. Such at all 
EVENTS WAS THE FACT : I cau appeal to many living wit- 
nesses ; they can confirm what is advanced ; they also with 
me can aver, that Henry Martyn was not less cheerful as 
a companion, than he was warm-hearted and constant as a 
friend. 

Those who imagine thai a smile scarcely ever played 
upon his countenance — that hi* manner was cold and for- 



* PREFACE. 

bidding, would have been startled at hearing hia hearty 
laugh, which still sounds in my ears, and in seeing little 
children climbing his knees, affording ^im a pleasure as 
great as they themselves received. That his natural tem- 
per was more irritable than I had supposed, is plain from 
the story of the knife, p. 18. which I at first disbelieved, 
but have since ascertained to be true. Of the tenderness 
of his heart — in addition to the evidences before given, 
there is a touching one, p. 253, which, whilst his " beloved 
Fersis" was yet amongst us, could not so well be published. 
For the previous non-insertion of that golden passage, 
p. 223, I have only one excuse — the distracting richness 
of his voluminous journals. Many masses of ore, and not 
mere filings, are still necessarily left behind. I will only 
add that I cannot enough deplore the unaccountable loss 
of the introduction to that sermon preached by him on 
ship-board, on the awful subject of eternal punishment 
The preference it expresses for other topics of discourse 
•—the reluctance it avows in bringing forward the painful 
one then under consideration — the motives it exhibits — 
love and concern for those whom he addressed — would 
convince those who may have suspected him orTiarshness, 
that if, on this occasion, he '' used the lancet, it was not 
till he had concealed it in the sponge." In the absence of 
the document itself, my testimony, 1 hope, to the above 
effect, will not be discredited. 

J. S 
' LAYKfOTON, April 1830. 



MEMOIR. 

CHAPTER L 

EARLY LIFE OF HENRY MARTYN. HIS SUCCESSFUL 

ACADEMICAL CAREER. 

It has been well observed, by one* who took a pro- 
found view of human nature, that there are three very 
different orbits in which great men move and shine ; 
and that each sphere of greatness has its respective 
admirers. There are those, who as heroes, fill the 
world with their exploits ; they are greeted by the ac- 
clamations of the multitude; they are ennobled whilst 
living, and their names descend with lustre to poste- 
rity. Others there are, who by the brilliancy of their 
imagination or the vigour of their intellect, attain to 
honour of a purer and a higher kind ; the fame of these 
is confined to a more select number ; for all have not a 
discriminating sense of their merit. A third description 
remains, distinct from both of the former, and far more 
exalted than either; whose excellence consists in a 
renunciation of themselves and a compassionate love 
for mankind. In this order the Saviour of the world 
was pleased to appear; and those persons obtain the 
highest rank in it, who, by his grace, are enabled most 
closely to imitate his example. 

Henry Martyn, the subject of this Memoir, was 
born at Truro, in the county of Cornwall, on the I8th 
*Pascal. 



14 EARLY LIFE 

of February, 1781, and appears, with his family in ge- 
neral, to have inherited a weak constitution; as, of 
many children, four only, two sons and two daughters, 
survived their father, Mr. John Martyn, and all of these, 
within a short period, followed him to the grave. Of 
these Henry was the third. His father was originally 
in a very humble situation of life, having been a labour- 
er, in the mines of Gwenap, the place of his nativity. 
With no education but such as a country reading school 
afforded, he was compelled to engage, for his daily 
support, in an employment which, dreary and unhealthy 
as it was, offered some advantages, of which he most 
meritoriously availed himself. The miners, it seems, 
are in the habit of working and resting alternately every 
four hours ; and the periods of relaxation from manual 
labour, they frequently devote to mental emprovement. 
In these intervals of cessation from toil, John Martyn 
acquired a complete knowledge of arithmetic, and also 
some acquaintance with mathematics; and no sooner 
had he gathered these valuable and substantial fruits 
of persevering diligence, in a soil most unfriendly to 
their growth, than he was raised from a state of poverty 
and depression to one of comparative ease and comfort. 
Being admitted to the ofHce of Mr. Daniel, a merchant 
of Truro, he lived there as chief clerk, very respectably, 
enjoying considerably more than a competency. At 
the grammar school in this town, the master of which 
was the Rev. Cornelius Cardew, D.D. a gentleman of 
learning and talents, Henry was placedl)y his father in 
midsummer 1788, being then between seven and eight 
years of age. Of his childhood, previous to this period, 
little or nothing can be ascertained, but those who 
knew him considered him to be a boy of promising 
abilities. 

Upon his first entering the school. Dr. Cardew 
observes, that ''he did not fail to answer the expec- 
tations which had been formed of him : his proficiency 
in the classics exceeded that of most of his school-fel* 



OF HENRY MARTVN. 16 

lows ; yet there were boys who made a more rapid pro- 
gress ; — not perhaps that their abilities were superior, 
but their application was greater; for he was of a lively, 
cheerful temper, and, as I have been told by those who 
sat near him, appeared to be the idlest among them; 
being frequently known to go up to his lesson with 
little or no preparation, — as if he learned it by intui- 
tion. - .' '• 

In all schools there are boys, it is well known, who 
from natural softness of spirit, inferiority in point of 
bodily strength, or an unusual thirst for literary acquire- 
ments, become much secluded from the rest; and such 
boys are generally exposed to the ridicule and oppres- 
sion of their associates. Henry Martyn, though not at 
that time eminently studious, was one of this class; he 
seldom joined the other boys in their pastimes, in which 
he was not an adept; and he often suffered from 
the tyranny of those older and stronger than himself. 

" Little Harry Martyn," (for by that name he usually 
went,) says one of his earliest friends and compan- 
ions, " was in a manner proverbial among his school- 
fellows for a peculiar tenderness and inoffensiveness of 
spirit, which exposed him to the ill offices of many 
overbearing boys; and as there was at times some 
peevishness in his manner when attacked, he was often 
unkindly treated. 

That he might receive assistance in his lessons he 
was placed near one of the upper boys, with whom he 
contracted a friendship which lasted through life, and 
whose imagination readily recalls the position in which 
he used to sit, the thankful expression of his affectionate 
countenance, when he happened to be helped out of some 
difficulty, and a thousand other little incidents of his 
boyish days." Besides assisting him in his exercises, 
his friend, it is added, " had often the happiness of 
rescuing him from the grasp of oppressors, and has 
never seen more feeling gratitude evinced than was 
€hown by him on those occasions." 



16 EARLY LIFE 

At this school, under the same excellent tuition, 
Henry remained till he' was between fourteen and fif- 
teen years of age ; at which period he was induced to 
offer himself as a candidate for a vacant scholarship at 
Corpus Christi College, Oxford. Young as he was, 
he went there alone, without any interest in the Uni- 
versity, and with only a single letter to one of the tu- 
tors : and while there, he acquitted himself so well, 
though strongly and ably opposed, that, in the opinion 
of some of the examiners, he ought to have been elect- 
ed. How often is the hand of God seen in frustrating 
our fondest designs ! Had success attended him, the 
whole circumstances of his after-life would have been 
varied ; and however his temporal interests might have 
been promoted, his spiritual interests would probably 
have sustained a proportionate loss. 

It was with sensations of this kind that he himself 
many years afterwards reverted to this disappointment. 
"In the Autumn of 1795," he says, in an account pre- 
fixed to his private Journal of the year 1803, "my fa- 
ther, at the persuasion of many of his friends, sent me 
to Oxford, to be a candidate for the vacant scholarship 
at Corpus Christi; I entered at no college, but had 
rooms at Exeter College, by the interest of Mr. Cole, 
the Sub-Rector. I passed the examination, I believe, 
tolerably well ; but was unsuccessful, having every- 
reason to think that the decision was impartial. Had 
I remained, and become a member of the University at 
that time, as I should have done in case of success, 
the profligate acquaintances I had there, would have 
introduced me to scenes of debauchery, in which I 
must, in all probability, from my extreme youth, have 
sunk for ever." 

After this repulse, Henry returned home, and con- 
tinued to attend Dr. Cardew^'s school till June, 1797. 
That he had made no inconsiderable progress there, 
was evident from the very creditable examination he 
passed at Oxford ; and in the two years subsequent to 



OP HENRY MARTYN. 17 

this, he must have greatly augmented his fund of clas- 
sical knowledge ; but it seems not to have been till 
after he had commenced his academical career, that 
his superiority of talent was fully discovered. The 
signal success of that friend who had been his guide 
and protector at school, led him in the spring of the 
year, to direct his views towards the University of 
Cambridge, which he probably preferred to that of 
Oxford, because he hoped there to profit by the advice 
and assistance to which he was already so much in- 
debted. Whatever might be the cause of this prefer- 
ence, it certainly did not arise from any predilection 
for mathematics ; for he confesses that, in the autumn 
before he went to Cambridge, instead of the study of 
Euclid and Algebra, one part of the day was dedicated 
to his favourite employment of shooting, and the other 
to reading, for the most part, Travels, and Lord Ches- 
terfield's Letters; — " attributing to a want of taste for 
mathematics, what ought to have been ascribed to idle- 
ness; and having his mind in a roving, dissatisfied, 
restless condition, seeking his chief pleasure in reading 
and in human praise." 

His residence at St. John's College, where his name 
had been previously entered in the summer, commen- 
ced in the month of October, 1797; and it may tend to 
show how little can be determined from first attempts, 
to relate that Henry Martyn began his mathematical 
pursuits by attempting to commit the propositions of 
Euclid to memory. The endeavour may be considered 
as a proof of the confidence he himself entertained in 
the retentive powers of his mind; but it certainly did 
not supply an auspicious omen of future excellence. 

On his introduction to the University, happily for 
him, the friend of his ' boyish days ' became the coun- 
sellor of his riper years ; nor was this most important 
act of friendship either lost upon him at the time, or 
obliterated from his menjory in after life. " During 
the first term," he has recorded in his journal, ** I was 



18 HIS SLci k^^skUL 

kept a good deal in idleness by some of iny new ac- 
quaintances, but the kind attention of K was a prin- 
cipal means of my preservation from excess." That 
his time was far from being wholly misemployed, be- 
tween October and Christmas, is evident from the 
place he obtained in the first class at the public exami- 
nation of his college in December; a circumstance 
which, joined to the extreme desire he had to gra- 
tify his father, encouraged and excited him to study 
with increased alacrity ; and as the fruit of this appli- 
cation, at the next public examination in the summer, 
he reached the second station in the first class ; a point 
of elevation which "flattered his pride not a little." 

The tenor of Henry Martyn's life during this and the 
succeeding year, would, in the eye of the world, be 
considered to have been amiable and commendable. 
He was outwardly moral; was, with little exception, 
unwearied in application ; and exhibited marks of no 
ordinary talent. One exception to this statement is to 
be found in an irritability of temper, increased, if not 
engendered by the treatment he had. met with at school. 
These ebullitions of passion had, on one occasion, 
nearly proved fatal to a friend — the late excellent Mr. 
Cotterill (afterwards minister of St. Paul's Church, 
Sheffield.) He barely escaped the point of a knife, 
wiiich, thrown by the hand of Henry Martyn, most 
providentially missed him, and was left trembling in 
the wall. If from this unsubdued impetuosity of tem- 
per we pass to his avowed and fixed principles — these, 
as might well be expected, evince him to have been 
living at this time ' without God in the world.' The 
consideration that God chiefly regards the motives of 
our actions — a consideration so momentous, and so es- 
sential to the character of a real christian appears as 
yet never to have entered his mind : and even when it 
did, as was the case at this time, it rested there as a 
theoretic notion, which was never meant to be reduced 
to practice. His own account of himself is very strik- 



ACADEMICAL CAREER. 19 

ing. Speaking of June, 1799, he says, '* K (the 

friend alluded to before) attempted to persuade me that 
I ought to attend to reading, not for the praise^ of men, 
but for the glory of God. This seemed strange to me, 
but reasonable. I resolved, therefore, to maintain this 
opinion thenceforth ; but never designed, that I remem- 
ber, that it should affect my conduct,^'' What a deci- 
sive mark this of an unrenewed mind ! v^hat an af- 
fecting proof that light may break in upon the under- 
standing, whilst there is not so much as the dawn of it 
on the heart I 

Providentially for Henry Martyn, he had not only 
the great blessing of possessing a religious friend at 
College, but he possessed likewise the happiness of 
having a sister in Cornwall, who was a christian of a 
meek, heavenly, and affectionate spirit; to whom, as 
well as to the rest of his relations there, he paid a visit 
in the summer of the year 1799, carrying with him no 
small degree of academical honour, though not all that 
he had fondly and ambitiously expected. He had lost 
the prize for themes in his college, and was only second 
again in the first class at the public examination, when 
he had hoped to have been first; — a "double disap- 
pointment," to use his own words, " which nettled him 
to the quick." It may be well supposed, that to a 
sister, such as we have described, her brother's spirit- 
ual welfare would be a most serious and anxious con- 
cern ; and that she often conversed with him on the 
subject of religion, we learn from his own declaration. 
" I went home this summer, and was frequently ad- 
dressed by my dear sister on the subject of religion, 
but the sound of the Gospel, conveyed in the admo- 
nition of a sister, was grating to my ears." — The 
first result of her tender exhortations and earnest en- 
endeavours was very discouraging : a violent conflict 
took place in her brother's mind, between his convic- 
tion of the truth of what she urged, and his love of the 
world; and for the present, the latter prevailed. Yet 



1^0 HI9 SUCCESSFUL 

sisters, similarly circumstanced, may learn from thifi 
case, not merely their duty, but also, from the final 
result, the success they may anticipate — in the faithful 
discharge of it. '' I think," he observes, wlien after- 
wards reviewing this period with a spirit truly broken 
and contrite, " I do not remember a time in which the 
wickedness of my heart rose to a greater height than 
during my stay at home. The consummate selfishness 
and exquisite irritability of my mind were displayed in 
rage, malice, and envy ; in pride, and vain glory, and 
contempt of all ; in the harshest language to my sisier, 
and even to my father, if he happened to differ from my 
mind and will. O what an example of patience and 
mildness was he! I love to think of his excellent quali- 
ties, and it is frequently the anguish of my heart, that 
I ever could be so base and wicked as to pain him by 
the slightest neglect. my God and Father, why is 
not my heart doubly agonized at the remembrance of all 
my great transgressions against Thee ever since I have 
known thee as such ! — I left my sister and father in 
October, and him I saw no more. I promised my sister 
that I would read the Bible for myself, but on being 
settled at college, Newton engaged all my thoughts.'* 
At length, however, it pleased God to convince 
Henry by a most affecting visitation of his providence, 
that there was knowledge far more important to him 
than any human science; and to lead him, whilst con- 
templating the heavens by the light of astronomy, to 
devote himself to His service, who having made those 
heavens, and having left them for man's salvation, is 
now again exalted to the right hand of God, as his Me- 
diator and Advocate. The sudden and heart-rending 
intelligence of the death of his father, was the proxi- 
mate, though doubtless, not the efficient cause of his 
receiving these convictions. How poignant were his 
sufferings under this afHiction may be seen in the ac- 
count he himself has left of it: — from whence it is 
evident that it was a season, not only of severe but of 



ACADEMICAL CAREER. 31 

sanctified sorrow ; a seed time of tears, promising that 
harvest of holiness, peace, and joy, which succeeded it. 
At the examination at Christmas, 1799," he writes, 
** I was first, and the account of it pleased my father 
prodigiously, who, I was told, was in great health and 
spirits. * What then was my consternation, when, in 
January, I received from my brother an account of his 
death ! But while I mourned the loss of an earthly pa- 
rent, the angels in heaven were rejoicing at my being 
so soon to find an heavenly one. As I had no taste at 
this time for my usual studies, I took up my Bible, 
thinking that the consideration of religion was rather 
suitable to this solemn time ; nevertheless I often took 
up other books to engage my attention, and should 

have continued to do so, had not K advised me to 

make this time an occasion of serious reflection. I 
began with the Acts, as being the most amusing; and, 
whilst I was entertained with the narrative, I found 
myself insensibly led to enquire more attentively into 
the doctrines of the Apostles. These corresponded 
nearly enough with the few notions I had received in 
my early youth. I believe, on the first night after, I 
began to pray from a pre-composed form, in which I 
thanked God in general, for having sent Christ into the 
world. But though I prayed for pardon, I had little 
sense of my own sinfulness; nevertheless, I began 
to consider myself a religious man. The first time 
after this that I went to chapel, I saw, with some de- 
gree of surprise at my former inattention, that in the 
Magnificat there was a great degree of joy expressed 
at the coming of Christ, which I thought but reasona- 
ble. K had lent me Doddridge's Rise and Pro- 
gress. The first part of which 1 could not bear to read, 
because it appeared to make religion consist too much 
in humiliation : and piy proud and wicked heart would 
not bear to be brought down into the dust. And 

K , to whom I mentioned the gloom which I felt, 

after reading the first part of Doddridge, reprobated it 



^4 HIS SUCCESSFUL 

•trongly. — Alas ! did he think thert we can go along the 
way that leadeth unto life, without entering in at the 
'.strait gate? ' " . 

It was not long after Henry had been called to en* 
dure this gracious, though grievous, chastening from 
above, that the public exercises conamenced in the Uni- 
versity ; and although his greatest stimulous to exer- 
tion was removed by the loss of his father, whom it 
was his most anxious desire still to please, he again 
devoted himself to his mathematical studies with un- 
wearied diligence. That spiritual danger exists in an 
intense application of the mind to these studies, he was 
so deeply sensible at a latter period of his life, as, on 
a review of this particular time, most gratefully to ac- 
knowledge, that " the mercy of God prevented the ex- 
tinction of that spark of grace which his Spirit had 
kindled." At the moment of his exposure to this peril 
he was less conscious of it : but we may perceive, from 
the following letter to his youngest sister, that he was 
not wholly devoid of circumspection on this head. Hav- 
ing shortly, and with much simplicity, announced that 
his name stood first upon the list at the college exami- 
nation of the summer of the year 1800, he thus ex- 
presses himself: " What a blessing it is for me, that 
I have such a sister as you, my dear S — , who have been 
so instrumental in keeping me in the right way. When 
I consider how little human assistance you. have had, 
and the great knowledge to which j^ou have attained on 
the subject of religion — especially observing the ex- 
treme ignorance of the most wise and learned of this 
world — I think this is itself a proof of the wonderful 
influence of the Holy Ghost on the minds of well-dis- 
posed persons. It is certainly by the Spirit alone that 
we can have the will, or power, or knowledge, or con- 
fidence to pray; and by Him alone we come unto the 
Father through Jesus Christ. ' Through Him we both 
have access by one Spirit unto tlie Father.' How I re- 
?oice to find that we disagreed only about words ! I did 



ACADEMICAL CAREER. S3 

not doubt, as you suppose, at all about that joy which 
true believers feel. Can there be any one subject, any 
one source of cheerfulness and joy, at all to be com- 
pared with the heavenly serenity and comfort which 
euch a person must find, in holding communion with his 
God and Saviour in prayer — in addressing God as his 
Father, and, more than all, in the transporting hope 
of being preserved unto everlasting life, and of singing 
praises to his Redeemer when time shall be no more? 
Oh ! I do indeed feel this state of mind at times ; but 
at other times I feel quite humbled at finding myself so 
cold and hard-hearted. That reluctance to prayer, that 
unwillingness to come unto God, who is the fountain 
of all good, when reason and experience tells us that 
with him only true pleasure is to be found, seem to be 
owing to Satanic influence. Though I think my em- 
ployment in life gives me peculiar advantages, in some 
respects, with regard to religious knowledge; yet 
with regard to having a practical sense of things on 
the mind, it is by far more the worst of any. For the 
labourer as he drives on his plough, and the weaver 
as he works at his loom, may have his thoughts entirely 
disengaged from his work, and may think with advan- 
tage upon any religious subject. But the nature of owr 
studies requires such a deep abstraction of the mind 
from all things, as to roiider it completely incapable of 
any thing else, and that during many hours of the day. 
With respect to the dealings of the Almighty with 
me, you have heard in general the chief of my account; 
as I am brought to a sense of things gradually, there 
is nothing peculiarly striking in it to particularise. 
After the death of our father, you know I was extreme- 
ly low-spirited ; and, like most other people, began to 
consider seriously, without any particular determina- 
tion, that invisible world to which he was gone, and to 
which I must one day go. Yet I still read the Bible 
unenlightened ; and said a prayer or two rather through 
terror of a superior power than any other (^ause. Soon, 



24 HIS SUCCESSFUL 

however, I began to attend more diligently to the words 
of our Saviour in the New Testament, and to devour 
them with delight ; when the offers of mercy and for- 
giveness were made so freely, I supplicated to be made 
partaker of the covenant of grace with eagerness and 
hope : — and thanks be to the ever-blessed Trinity for 
not leaving me without comfort. Throughout the 
whole, however, even when the light of divine truth was 
beginning to dawn on my mind, I was not under that 
great terror of future punishment, which I now see 
plainly I had every reason to feel ; I look back now 
upon that course of wickedness which like a gulph of 
destruction yawned to swallow me up, with a trembling 
delight, mixed with shame at having lived so long in 
ignorance, and error, and blindness. I could say much 
more, my dear S — , but I have no more room. I have 
only to express my acquiescence in most of your 
opinions, and to join wnth you in gratitude to God for 
his mercies to us : may he preserve you and me and 
all of us to the day of the Lord I" 

How cheering to his sister must it have been to re- 
ceive, at a moment of deep sorrow, such a communi- 
cation as this, indicating a state of mind not thoroughly 
instructed, indeed, in the mystery of faith, but fully 
alive to the supreme importance of religion. How salu- 
tary to his own mind to have possessed so near a rela- 
tion to whom he could thus freely open the workings 
of his heart! But the chief cause und^er God, of his 
stability at this season in those religious principles 
which, by divine grace he had adopted, was evidently 
that constant attendance which he now commenced on 
the ministry of the Rev. Charles Simeon, at Trinity 
Church in Cambridge; under whose truly pastoral 
instructions, he himself declares that he " gradually 
acquired more knowledge in divine things." 

In the retrospect which Henry afterwards took of 
this part of his life, he seems sometimes ready to sus- 
pect a want of growth, and almost a want of vitality in 



ACADEMICAL CAREER. 25 

his religion; but though tliere may liave been some 
ground for the former of these suspicions, there certain- 
ly was none, whatever his humility may have suggest- 
ed, for the latter. " I can only account," he says, 
"for my being stationary so long, by the intenseness 
with which 1 perused my studies, in which I was so 
absorbed, that the time I gave to them seemed not to be 
a portion of my existence. That in which I now see 
I was lamentably deficient, was a humble and contrite 
spirit, in which I should have perceived more clearly 
the excellency of Christ. The eagerness, too, with 
which I looked forward to the approaching examina- 
tion for degrees, too clearly betrayed a heart not dead 
to the world." 

That a public examination for a degree in the Uni- 
versity must be a time of painful solicitude to those 
about to pass throii;;;h it, is obvious : — especially when 
great expectatics have beer> r'^ised, and worldly pros- 
pects are likely to be seriously affected by the event. 
From Henry Martyn much w?i« expected; and had he 
altogether failed, his temporal interests would have 
materially suffered. Nor was he naturally insensible 
to those perturbations which are apt to arise in a youth- 
ful and ambitious breast. It happened, however, (as 
he was frequently known to assert,) that upon entering 
the Senate House — in which a larger than the usual 
proportion of able young men were his competitors — 
his mind was singularly composed and tranquillised, 
by the recollection of a sermon which he had heard 
not long before on the text — " Seekest thou great 
things for thyself — seek them not, saith the Lord." 
He thus became divested of that extreme anxiety about 
success, which, by harassing his spirit, must have im- 
peded the free exercise of his powers. His decided su- 
periority in mathematics, therefore, soon appeared — 
and the highest academical honour, that of " Senior 
Wrangler," was awarded to him, in January, 1801, at 
which period he had not completed the twentieth year 



26 ADVANCEMENT IN PIETY. 

of his age. Nor is it any disparagement to that hon- 
our, or to those who conferred it on him, to record that 
it was attended in this instance with that sense of dis- 
appointment and dissatisfaction to which all earthly- 
blessings are subject. His description of his own feel- 
ings on this occasion is very remarkable — " I obtained 
my highest wishes, but was surprised to find that I 
had grasped a shadow." So impossible is it for earth- 
ly distinctions, though awarded for successful exertions 
of the intellect, to fill and satisfy the mind, especially 
after it has tasted " the good word of God, and the 
powers of the world to come." So certain is it, that 
he who drinks of the water of the well of this life must 
thirst again, and that it is the water which springs up 
to everlasting life which alone affords never-failing re- 
freshments. 



CHAPTER H. 

HIS ADVANCEMENT IN PIETY COLLEGE EMPLOYMENTS 

DECIDES ON BECOMING A MISSIONARY HIS ORDINATION. 

Having thus attained that station of remarkable me- 
rit and eminence, upon which his eye from the first had 
been fixed, and for which he had toiled with such 
astonishing diligence, as to be designated in his college 
as " the man who had not lost an hour ;" and having 
received likewise the first of two prizes given annually 
to the best proficients in Mathematics, amongst those 
bachelors who have just taken their degree — in the 
month of March, Henry again visited Cornwall, where 
amidst the joyful greetings and congratulations of all his 
friends, his youngest sister was alone dejected, not 
witnessing in him that progress in Christian knowledge 
which she had been fondly led to anticipate. 



ADVANCEMENT IN PIETY. 27 

Nor ought we to attribute this wholly to that ardency 
of affectipn, which might dispose her to indulge in san- 
guine and somewhat unreasonable expectations. Those 
who know what human nature is, even after it has been 
renewed by the Spirit of God, will not deny that it is 
more than possible that her brother's zeal might have 
somewiiat relaxed in the bright sunshine of academical 
honour : and certain it is that his standard of duty, though 
superior to that of the world, was at this time far from 
reachinsf that deg-ree of elevation which it afterwards at- 
tained. Who can v/onder, then, that a person trem- 
blingly alive to his best interests, should not be wholly 
free from apprehension, and should be continually urg- 
ing on his conscience the solemn sanctions of the Gos- 
pel, entreating him to aim at nothing less than Chris- 
tian perfection. 

Returning to Cambridge in the summer of this year, 
he passed the season of vacation most profitably : 
constrained, happily, to be much alone, he employed his 
solitary hours in frequent communion with his own 
heart, and with that gracious Lord who once blessed 
Isaac and Nathaniel in their secret devotions, and who 
did not withhold a blessing from his. " God," he 
observes, " was pleased to bless the solitude and re- 
tirement I enjoyed this summer, to my improvement: 
*and not until then had I ever experienced any real plea- 
sure in religion, fl was more convinced of sin than 
ever, more earnest in fleeing to Jesus for refuge, and 
' more desirous of the renewal of my nature." ' 

It was during this vacation also that an intimate ac- 
quaintance commenced, as much distinguished by a 
truly parental regard on the one hand, as it was by a 
grateful, reverential, and filial affection on the other. 
Having long listened with no small degree of pleasure 
and profit to Mr. Simeon, as a preacher, Henry now 
began to enjoy the happiness of an admission to the 
most friendly and unreserved intercourse with him, and 
was in the habit of soliciting and receiving, on all 



38 ADVANCEMENT IN PIETY. 

important occasions, his counsel and encouragement. 
By Mr. Simeon's kindness it was that he was now 
made known to several young men, with some of 
whom he formed the most enduring of all attachments, 
a Christian friendship: and it was from his conver- 
sation and example also, that he imbibed his first im- 
pressions of the transcendant excellence of the Chris- 
tian ministry; from which it was but a short step, to 
resolve upon devoting himself to that sacred calling : — 
for until now he had an intention of applying to the law, 
" chiefly," he confesses, " because he could not con- 
sent to be poor for Christ's sake." 

The great advancement which he had made in ge- 
nuine piety at this period, from intercourse with real 
Christians, and above all from secret communion with 
his God, is discernible in the following extracts from 
two letters — the first dated September 15, 1801, and 
addressed to his earliest friend; — the second written a 
few days afterwards, to his youngest sister. *^ That 
you may be enabled to do the will of your heavenly Fa- 
ther, shall be, you may be assured, my constant prayer 
at the throne of grace ; and this, as well from the de- 
sire of promoting the edification of Christ's body upon 
earth, as from motives of private gratitude. You have 
been the instrument in the hands of Providence of bring- 
ing me to a serious sense of things: for at the time of 
my father's death, I was using such methods of allevi- 
ating my sorrow, as I almost shudder to recollect. But, 
blessed be God, I have now experiencedTthat Christ is 
" the power of God, and the wisdom of God." What 
a blessing is the Gospel ! No heart can conceive its 
excellency, but that which has been renewed by divine 
grace." 

" I have lately," he writes in the second letter, " been 

witness to a scene of distress. P , in this town, 

with whom I have been little acquainted, and who had 
lived to the full extent of his income, — is now dying, 
and his family will be left perfectly destitute. I called 



ADVANCEMENT IN PIETV. 29 

yesterday to know whether he was still alive, and found 
his wife in a greater agony than you can conceive. 
She was wringing her hands and crying out to me, 
' pray for his soul' — and then again recollecting her 
own helpless condition, and telling me of her wretch- 
edness in being turned out upon the world without 
house or home. It was in vain to point to heaven; 
the heart, distracted and overwhelmed with worldly 
sorrow, finds it hard to look to God. — Since writing 

this, I have been to call on the daughters of P , 

who had removed to another house, because, from the 
violence of their grief, they incommoded the sick man. 
Thither I went to visit them, with my head and heart 
full of the subject I was come upon; and was surprised 
to find them cheerful, and thunderstruck to see a 
Gownsman reading a play to them. A play? — when 
their father was lying in the agonies of death. What 
a species of consolation ! I rebuked him so sharply, 
and, I am afraid so intemperately, that a quarrel will 
perhaps ensue. 

" But it is time that I should take some notice of 
your letter: when \v6 consider the misery and dark- 
ness of the unregenerate world. Oh! with how much 
reason should we burst out into thanksgiving to God, 
who has called us in his mercy through Christ Jesus ! 
What are we, that we should thus be made objects of 
distinguishing grace ! who then, that reflects upon the 
rock from which he was hewn, but must rejoice to 
give himself entirely and without reserve to God, to 
be sanctified by his spirit. The soul that has truly ex- 
perienced the love of God, will not stay meanly inquir- 
ing how much he shall do, and thus limit his service; 
but will be earnestly seeking more and more to know 
the will of our heavenly Father, that he may be enabled 
to do it. may we be both thus minded ! may we 
experience Christ to be our all in all, not only as our 
Redeemer, but as the fountain of grace. Those passa- 
ges of the word of God which you have quoted on this 
c2 



30 COLLEGIATE EMPLOYMENTS. 

head, are indeed awakening; may they leach us to 
breathe after holiness, to be more and more dead to 
the world, but alive unto God, through Jesus Christ. 
We are lights in the world; how needful then that our 
tempers and lives should manifest our high and hea- 
venly calling. Let us, as we do, provoke one another 
to good works, not doubting but that God will bless 
our feeble endeavours to his glory. 

''I have to bless him for another mercy I have recei- 
ved in addition to the multitude of which I am so un- 
worthy, in his having given me a friend indeed, one 
who has made much about the same advances in reli- 
gion as myself. We took our degrees together, but 
Mr. Simeon introduced us to each other. I do not 
wonder much at the backwardness you complain of 

before , having never been in much company. But 

the Christian heart is ever overflowing with good-will 
to the rest of mankind ; and this temper will produce the 
truest politeness, of which the affected grimace of 
ungodly men is but the shadow. Besides, the confu- 
sion felt in company arises in general from vanity: 
therefore, when this is removed, why should we fear 
to speak before the whole world 1 

" The Gownsman I mentioned, so far from being of- 
fended, has been thanking me for what I said, and is so 
seriously impressed with the awful circumstances of 
death, that I am in hopes it may be the foundation of 
a lasting change." _ 

It will be highly pleasing to the reader to know, that 
the anticipation with which the above letter concludes 
was verified. Mr. Martyn had afterwards the happi- 
ness of labouring in India together with that very per- 
son who had been reproved by him, and who, from the 
divine blessing accompanying that reproof, was then 
first led to appreciate the value of the Gospel. 

From this time to that of proposing himself for ad- 
mission to a fellowship in his college, Mr. Martyn's en- 
gagements consisted chiefly in instructing some pupils, 



VISIT TO CORNWALL. 31 

and in proparing- himself for the examination which was 
to take place previous to the election in the month of 
March, 1802 — when he was chosen fellow of St. John's. 
Soon after obtaining which situation, as honourable to 
the society in the appointment, as it was gratifying to 
himself, he employed some of his leisure hours, as he 
expresses it, in writing for one of the prizes w^hich 
are given to those who have been last admitted Ba- 
chelors of Arts : and though there were men of great 
classical celebrity among those who contested the palm 
with him, the first prize was assigned to him for the best 
Latin prose composition; a distinction the more remark- 
ble, as, from his entrance into the university, he had 
directed an unceasing and almost undivided attention 
to Mathematics, Having thus added another honour 
to those for which he had before been so signally dis- 
tinguished, Mr. Martyn departed from Cambridge, on 
a visit to his relations in Cornwall; — making a circuit 
on foot through Wenlock, Liverpool, and the vale of 
Langolien. Of this tour, (on which he was first attend- 
ed by one of his friends,) he has left a Journal, briefly 
and hastil}^ written, from which a few extracts, illus- 
trative of his character, may prove not uninteresting, 

" July 9, 1803. We walked into Wenlock, along a 
most romantic road. My mind during these three days 
has been less distracted than I expected; and I have 
had, at times, a very cheering sense of the presence of 
my God. 

'' July 17. I went on board a little sloop, and began 
to beat down the Mersey. The Mersey is here more 
than four miles broad, and the wind now increasing 
almost to a storm, the ship was a scene of confusion. 
One wave broke over us, and wetted me completely 
through. I think there was some danger, though the 
composure 1 felt did not arise, I fear, so niuch from a 
sense of my acceptance with God, as from thinking the 
danger not to be great. I had still sufficiently near 
views of death to be uneasy at considering how sloth- 



32 VISIT TO CORNWALL. 

ful I had been in doing the Lord's work and what 
little meetness I possessed for the kingdom of glory. 
Learn then, O my soul, to be always ready for the 
coming of the Lord; that no disquieting fear may arise 
to perplex thee in that awful hoar- 

*' July 23. — Holywell. Found myself very low and 
melancholy. If this arises from solitude, I have little 
pleasure to expect from my future tour. I deserve to 
be miserable, and I wish to be so, if ever I seek my 
pleasure in anything but God. 

*' July 25, — Carwys. I did not go to church this 
morning, as the service was in Welch ; but went through 
the cliurch service at home: — in the evening read 
Isaiak« 

" July 29. — Aber. Walked two miles into the coun- 
try to see a waterfall. I followed the course of the 
stream, which soon brought me to it. The water falls 
three times from the top : — the last fall appeared to be 
aboat -seventy feet. While lingering sbo^t here, I 
was put into great terror by some huge stones rolling 
down the hill behind me. They were thrown down 
by some persons above, who could not approach near 
enough to the precipice to see me below. The slip- 
periness of the rocks, on w^hich the spring is continu- 
allj falling, put me in danger. 

" The beautiful and retired situation of the inn at 
Aber, which commands an extensive view of the sea, 
made me unwilling to leave the house. - However, I 
setofi* at eleven, and paced leisurely to Bangor. It 
was a remarkably clear day. The sun shone on every 
object around me, and the sea breeze tempered the air. 
I felt happy at the sight, and could not help being 
struck with the beauty of the creation and the good- 
ness of the Grod of nature. 

"July 31. — Bethgelert, The descent after ascend- 
ing S-nowdon, was easy enough, but I cannot describe 
the horroT of the ascent. The deep darkness of the 
night, the howling of the w^ind in the chasms of the 



VISIT TO CORNWALL 33 

rocks, the violence of the rain, and the sullen silence of 
the guide, who was sonnetimes so far back that I could 
hardly see him, all conspired to make the whole appear 
a dream. 

" — Pont Aberglasslen, I met a poor Welch pedlar, 
with a bundle of hats on his back, who, on my inquir- 
ing the distance to Tan-y-Bwlch, told me he was going 
thither. He went by the old road, which is two miles 
nearer. It passes over the most dreary uncultivated 
hills I ever saw, where there is scarcely any mark of 
human industry. The road in most places is over- 
grown with grass. The poor man had walked from 
Carnavon that day, with an enormous bundle; and 
pointed with a sorrowful look to his head; and indeed 
he did look very ill ; he was however very cheerful : 
what difference in this man's temper and my own ! The 
difference was humbling to myself; when shall I learn 
'in whatever state I am, therewith to be content.' 

"August 5. — My walk for ten miles was similar to 
that of the preceding evening, only still more beauti- 
ful, for the Dovey widened continually^, and the oppo- 
site hills were covered with wood : at last the river fell 
into the sea, and the view was then fine indeed; the 
weather was serene, and the sea unruffled. I felt little 
fatigue ; and so my thoughts were turned to God. But 
if I cannot be thankful to him, and be sensible of his 
presence in seasons of fatigue, how can I distinguish 
the workino- of the Spirit from the ebullitions of animal 

joy." 

It is in scenes and seasons of solitude and relaxa- 
tion, such as those here described, that the true bias of 
the mind is apt to discover itself; in which point of 
view the above account is important; for, short a« it 
is, it evinces an habitual devotedness to the fear of God 
and great spirituality in the affections. 

This tour terminated in bringing Mr. Martyn to the 
l)osom of his family; and days more delightful than 
those which he then spent he never saw in this world. 



34 DECIDES ON 

The affectionate reception he met with from his friends ; 
the pious conversation he held with his sister on the 
things dearest to his heart; his secret retirements; 
and the happy necessity imposed upon him of almost 
exclusively studying the word of God, all conspir- 
ed to promote his felicity. These hours left for a 
long time " a fragrancy upon his mind, and the remem* 
brance of them was sweet." 

"As my sister and myself," he remarks, "were 
improved in our attainments, we tasted much ageeable 
intercourse. I did not stay much at Tniro, on account 
of my brother's family of children ; but at Woodbery, 
with my brother-in-law, I passed some of the sweetest 
moments of my life. The deep solitude of the place 
favoured meditation ; and the romantic scenery around 
supplied great external sources of pleasure. For want 
of other books, I was obliged to read my Bible almost 
exclusively; and from this I derived great spirituali- 
ty of mind, compared with what I had felt before." 

In the beginning of October, 1802, all these tranquil 
and domestic joys were exchanged for the severer en- 
gagements of the University ; and the conclusion of 
this year constituted a memorable era in Mr. Martyn's 
life. We have already seen him becoming the servant 
of Christ, dedicating himself to the ministry of the 
Gospel, experiencing the consolations of real religion, 
exhibiting its genuine fruits: we are now to behold 
him in a yet higher character, and givingjhe most exalt- 
ed proofs of faith and love. 

God, who has appointed different orders and de- 
grees in his Church, and who assigns to all the mem- 
bers of it their respective stations, was at this time 
pleased, by the almighty and gracious influence of his 
Spirit, to call the subject of this Memoir to a work 
demanding the most painful sacrifices and the most 
arduous exertions — that of a Christian Missionary. 
The immediate cause of his determination to undertake 
this office, was hearing the Rev. Mr. Simeon remark 



BECOMING A MISSIONARY. 35 

on the benefit which had resulted from the services of a 
single Missionary* in India; his attention was thus 
arrested, and his thoug-hts occupied with the vast im- 
portance of the subject. Soon after which, perusing 
the life of David Brainerd, who preached with aposto- 
lical zeal and success to the North American Indians, 
and who finished a course of self-denying labours for 
his Redeemer, with unspeakable joy, at the early age 
of thirty-two, his soul was filled with a holy emulation 
of that extraordinary man : and, after deep considera- 
tion and fervent prayer, he w^as at length fixed in a re- 
solution to imitate his example. Nor let it be concei- 
ved that he could adopt this resolution without the se- 
verest conflict in his mind : for he was endued with 
the truest sensibility of heart, and was susceptible of 
the warmest and tenderest attachments. No one could 
exceed him in love for his country, or in affection for 
his friends: and few could surpass him in an exquisite 
relish for the various and refined enjoyments of a so- 
cial and literary life. How then could it fail of being a 
moment of extreme anguish, when he came to the de- 
liberate resolution of leaving for ever all he held dear 
upon earth. But he w^as fully satisfied that the glory 
of that Saviour, who loved him and gave himself for 
him, would be promoted by his going forth to preach to 
the heathen : he considered their pitiable and perilous 
condition; he thought on the value of their immortal 
souls ; he remembered the last solemn injunction of his 
Lord, ' Go and teach all nations, baptizing them in the 
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 
Ghost;' — an injunction never revoked, and commensu- 
rate with that most encouraging promise, ' Lo, I am with 
you alway, even unto the end of the world.' Actua- 
ted by these motives, he offered himself in the capacity 
of a Missionary to the Society for Missions to Africa 

*Dr. Carey. 



36 DECIDES ON 

and the East;* and from that time stood prepared, with 
a child-like simplicity of spirit, and an unshaken con- 
stancy of soul, to go to any part of the world, whither 
it might be deemed expedient to send him. 

The following letter to his youngest sister, written 
not long after the adoption of a resolution so self-denying 
in its character, and more particularly some passages 
copiously extracted from his private Journal, will strik- 
ingly exhibit the varied exercise of his mind at this in- 
teresting and most trying juncture. From these it will 
be seen that he steadily contemplated the sacrifices he 
must make, and the difficulties he might encounter; — 
that though sometimes east down, he was yet upheld 
in the prospect of his great work, by Him who had call- 
ed him to it : — that his notions of the character of a Mis- 
sionary were elevated — his supplications for grace and 
mercy incessant — his examinations of his own heart, 
deep and sober and searching; — in one word, that he 
was a man of God, eminently endued w^ith ' the spirit 
of power, of love, and of a sound mind.' 

" I received your letter yesterday, and thank God 
for the concern you manifest for my spiritual welfare. 
O that we may love each other more and more in the 
Lord. The passages you bring from the word of God 
were appropriate to my case, particularly those from 
the first Epistle of St, Peter, and that to the Ephesians ; 
though I do not seem to have given you a right view 
of my state. The_dejection I sometimes labour under 
seems not to arise from doubts of my acceptance with 
God, though it tends to produce them ; nor from des- 
ponding views of my own backwardness in the divine 
life, for I am more prone to self-dependence and conceit ; 
but from the prospect of the difficulties I have to encoun- 
ter in the whole of my future life. The thought that I 
must be unceasingly employed in the same kind of 

*It is now called '^ The Church Missionary Society for Africa 
and the East," and eminently deserves the cordial support of eve- 
ry Member of the Church of England. 



BECOMING A MISSIONART. 37 

work, amongst poor, ignorant people, is what my proud 
spirit' revolts at. To be obliged to submit to a thou- 
sand uncomfortable things that must happen to me, 
whether as a minister or a missionary, is what the flesh 
cannot endure. At these times I feel neither love to 
God nor love to man, and in proportion as these graces 
of the spirit languish, my besetting sins — pride and 
discontent, and unwillingness for every duty, make me 
miserable. 

" You will best enter into my views by consider- 
ing those texts which serve to recall me to a right as- 
pect of things. I have not that coldness in prayer you 
would expect, but generally find myself strengthened 
in faith and humility and love after it: but the impres- 
sion is so short. I am at this time enabled to give my- 
self, body, soul, and spirit, to God, and perceive it to 
be my most reasonable service. How it may be when 
the trial comes, I know not, yet I will trust and not be 
afraid. In order to do his will cheerfully, I want love 
for the souls of men; to suffer it, I want humility : let 
these be the subjects of your supplications for me. I 
am thankful to God that you are so free from -anxiety 
and care ; we cannot but with praise acknowledge his 
goodness. What does it signify whether we be rich or 
poor, if we are sons of God? How unconscious are 
they of their real greatness, and will be so till they find 
themselves in glory ! When we contemplete our ever- 
lasting inheritance, it seems too good to be true ; yet 
it is no more than is due to the kindred of * God ma- 
nifest in the flesh.' 

*' A journey I took last week into Norfolk seems to 
have contributed greatly to my health. The attention 
and admiration shown me are great and very dan- 
gerous. The praises of men do not now, indeed, flat- 
ter my vanity as they formerly did ; I rather feel pain, 
through anticipation of their consequences ; but they 
tend to produce, imperceptibly, a self-esteem and hard- 
ness of heart. How awful and awakening a conside- 
D 



38 DECIDES ON 

ration is it, that God judgeth not as man judgeth! Our 
character before him is precisely as it was, before or 
after any change of external circumstances. Men may 
applaud or revile and make a man think differently of 
himself; but He judgeth of a man according to his 
secret walk. How difficult is the work of self-exami- 
nation. Even to state to you, imperfectly, my own 
mind, I found to be no easy matter. Nay, St. Paul 
says, ' I judge not mine own self, for he that judgeth 
me is the Lord.' That is, though he was not conscious 
of any allowed sin, yet he was not thereby justified, 
for God might perceive something of which he vras not 
aware. How needful then, the prayer of the Psalmist, 
' Search me, O God, and try my heart, and see if there 
be any evil way in me.' May God be with you, and 
bless you, and uphold you with the right hand of his 
righteousness ; and let us seek to love ; for ' he that 
dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, for God is love.'" 

In a journal replete with sentiments of most ardent 
piety, we meet with the. following reflections, recorded 
in the interval between the latter end of the year 1802,- 
the time when he first resolved to serve Christ as a 
Missionary, and the autumn of the year 1803, when he 
was admitted into Holy Orders. 

But let us hear his reasons for keeping such a record 
of the state of his mind :— " I am convinced that Chris- • 
tian experience is not a delusion ; — whether mine is so 
or not will be seen at the last day; — and my object in 
making this Journal, is to accustom myself to self-ex- 
amination, and to give my experience a visible form, 
so as to leave a stronger impression on the memory, 
and thus to improve my soul in holiness; — for the 
review of such a lasting testimony will serve the double 
purpose of conviction and consolation." 

Divided as Christians are in judgment respecting 
the general utility of a religious diary, there can be but 
one opinion amongst them respecting the uncommon 
txcelUnc© of th« following^ observations. 



BECOMING A MISSIONARY. 39 

** Since I have endeavoured to divest myself of every 
consideration independent of relig-ion, I see the difficul- 
ty of maintaining a liveliness in devotion for any con- 
siderable time together; — nevertheless, as I shall have 
to pass the greater part of my future life, after leaving 
England, with no other source of happiness than read- 
ing, meditation, and prayer, I think it right to be gra- 
dually mortifying myself to every species of worldly 
pleasure." " In all my past life 1 have fixed on some 
desirable ends, at different distances, the attainment 
of which was to furnish me v/ith happiness. But now, 
in seasons of unbelief, nothing seems to lie before me 
but one vast uninteresting wilderness, and heaven ap- 
pearing but diml}^ at the end. Oh ! how does this show 
the necessity of living by faith ! What a shame that I 
cannot make the doing of God's will my ever delightful 
object; and the prize of my high calling the mark after 
which I press." 

" I was under disquiet at the prospect of my future 
work, encompassed, as it appeared with difficulties ; 
but I trusted I was under the guidance of infinite wis- 
dom, and on thai I could rest. Mr. Johnson, who had 
returned from a mission, observed that the crosses to 
be endured were far greater than could be conceived ; 
but ' none of these things move me, neither count I 
my life dear unto me, so that I might finish my course 
with jo5^' Had some disheartening thoughts at night, 
at the prospect of being stripped of every earthly com- 
fort ; but who is it thaf maketh my comforts to be a 
source of enjoyment ] Cannot the same hand make cold 
and hunger and nakedness and peril to be a train of 
ministering angels conducting me to glory 1" — " O 
my soul, compare thyself with St. Paul, and with the 
example and precepts of the Lord Jesus Christ. Was 
it not his meat and drink to do the will of his heavenly 
Father T" 

" Finished the account of Dr. Vanderkemp, and 
longed to be sent to China. But I may reasonably 



40 DECIDKS 0> 

doubt the reality of every gracious affection, they are 
80 like the morning cloud, and transient as the early 
dew. If I had the true love of souls, I should long 
and labour for those around me, and afterwards for the 
conversion of the Heathen," 

*' I had distressing thoughts about the little prospects 
of happiness in my future life. Though God has noc 
designed man to be a solitary being, yet surely the 
child of God would delight to pour out his soul for 
whole days together before God. Stir up my soul to 
lay hold on Thee, and remove from me the cloud of 
ignorance and sin that hides from tcig the glory of Je- 
hovah, the excellency of my God." " I found Butler's 
Analogy useful in encouraging me to self-denial, by 
the representation he gives of this life, as a state of 
discipline for a better." ^' Since adopting the Gospel 
as the ground of my hope and the rule of my life, I feel 
the force of the argument drawn from its exalted mo- 
ality. In so large a work as the Bible, by so many 
writers in such different ages, never to meet with any 
thing puerile or inconsistent with their own views of 
the Deity, is a circumstance unparalleled in any other 
book." — " Respecting what is called the experience of 
Christians, it is certain that we have no reason, from the 
mere contemplation of the operations of our own minds, 
to ascribe them to an extrinsic agent, because they arise 
from their proper causes, and are directed to their pro- 
per ends. The truth or falsehood of pretences to the 
experience of divine agency, nrnst depend on the truth 
or falsehood of Scripture; that warrants us sufficiently 
— for it informs us that it is " God that worketh in us, 
both to will and to do, of his good pleasure;" which 
passage, while it asserts the reality of God's influence 
points out also the manner of his acting, for he works 
in us to will before he works in us to do. This effect- 
ually guards against fanaticism^ for no one will pretend 
that he can ever put his finger on those m.ysterious 
springs which move the will, or knows what they be; 



BECOMING A MISSIONARY. 41 

and therefore he cannot say, now God is exerting his 
influence. He may reasonably, indeed, and ought to, 
ascribe every good thought to God, but still every good 
thing in him is but the effect of something preceding 
his first perception, therefore is posterior to the moving 
cause, which must hence be for ever concealed from 

the immediate knowledge of man." " H came, 

and we resumed our exercises of reading and prayer. 
Though it be true that the more strict our obedience is, 
the more evidently does the imperfection of it appear, 
yet I think it reasonable to be thankful that I have re- 
ceived grace to stir one single step this day towards 
the kingdom of heaven." — " After my prayers, my mind 
seems touched with hujnility and love, but the impres- 
sion decays so soon ! Resolved for the future to use 
more watchfulness in reading and prayer." — " My 
prayers have been frequent of late, but I cannot realise 
the presence of the Almighty God: I have not enjoyed 
communion with him, or else there would not be such 
strangeness in my heart towards the world to come." 
" In my walk out, and during the remainder of the day, 
the sense of my own weakness and worthlessness call- 
ed me to watchfulness, and dependence on the grace 
of Christ." — *' My soul rather benumbed than humble 
and contrite; tired with v/atchfulness, though so short 
and so feeble" — "sudden flashes of faint affection to-day 
which raised self-satisfaction, but no abiding humilia- 
tion." — " Talked wdth much contemptuous severity 
about conformity to the world; alas ! all that is done 
in this way had better be left undone." ''This was a day 
when I could only by transient glimpses perceive that 
all things were ' loss, for the excellency of the know- 
ledge of Christ Jesus my Lord.' " 

" I am not conscious of any particular backsliding 
from God; I think my prayers have been more earnest; 
yet the views of my own heart have produced, not 
humility, but discontent, I suppose because they are 
grating to pride." — '' What is the state of my own 



43 DECIDES OIT 

soul before God ? I believe that it is right in principle : 
I desire no other portion but God : but I pass so many- 
hours as if there were no God at all. I lire far below 
the hope, comfort, and holiness of the Gospel : but be 
not slothful, O ray soul; — look unto Jesus the author 
and finisher of thy faith. For whom was grace in- 
tended, if not for me? Are not the promises made to 
mel Is not my Maker in earnest, when he declareth 
that he willeth my sanctification, and hath laid help 
on one that is mighty'? I will therefore have no confi- 
dence in the flesh, but wilj rejoice in the Lord, and the 
joy of the Lord shall be my strength. May I receive 
from above a pure, a humble^ a benevolent, a hea- 
venly mind ! " 

''Rose at half-past five, and walked a little before 
chapel, in a happy frame of mind. Endeavoured to 
maintain affectionate thoughts of God as my Father, on 
awaking in the morning. Setting a watch over my 
iirst thoughts, and endeavouring to make them humble 
^nd devout, I find to be an excellent preparation for 
prayer, and for a right spirit during the day. • I was 
in a happy frame most of the day.; towards the even- 
ing, from seeking to maintain this right state by my 
own strength, instead of giving it permanency by faith 
in Jesus, I grew tired and very insensible to most 
things. At chapel the sacred melody wafted my 
soul to heaven ; the blessedness of heaven appeared so 
sweet, that the very possibility of losing it appeared 
terrible, and raised a little disquiet with my joy. Af- 
ter all, I had rather live in an humble and dependent 
spirit, for then, perceiving underneath me the everlast- 
ing arms, I can enjoy my security." — "Amid the joy- 
ous affections of this day, I quickly forgot my own 
worthlessness and helplessness, and thus looking off 
from Jesus, found myself standing on slippery ground. 
But oh! the happiness of that state, where pride shall 
never intrude, to make our joys an occasion of sorrow." 

" Rose at six, and passed the morning in great 



BECOMING A MISSIONARY. 43 

tranquillity. Learnt by heart some of the first three 
chapters of Revelations. This is to me the most 
searching and alarming part of the Bible ; yet now with 
humble hope I trusted, that the censures of my Lord did 
not belong to me: except that those words, Rev. ii. 3. 
— 'For my name's sake thou hast laboured and hast not 
fainted,' were far too high a testimony for me to think 
of appropriating to myself; nevertheless I besought 
the Lord, that whatever I had been, I might now be 
perfect and complete in all the will of God." — '' Men 
frequently admire me, and I am pleased; but I ab- 
hor the pleasure 1 feel ; oh ! did they but know that 
my root is rottenness I"—'' Heard Professor Parish 
preach at Trinity Church, on Luke xii. 4, 5, and was 
deeply impressed with the reasonableness and ne- 
cessity of the fear of God. Felt it to be a light mat- 
ter to be judged of man's judgment; why have I not 
awful apprehensions of the glorious Being at all times 1 
The particular promise— -' Him that overcometh will I 
make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go 
no more out,' dwelt a long time in my mind, and diffu- 
sed an affectionate reverence of God." — ''I see a great 
work before me nov/, namely the subduing and mortifi- 
ing of my perverted will. What am I that I should 
dare to do my own will, even if I were not a sinner ; but 
now how plain, how reasonable to have the love of 
Christ constraining me to be his faithful, willing ser- 
vant, cheerfully taking up the cross he shall appoint 
me." — " Read some of Amos with Lowth. The read- 
ing of the Prophets is to me one of the most delightful 
employments. One cannot but be charmed with the 
beauty of the imagery, while they never fail to inspire 
me with awful thoughts of God and of his hatred of 
sin. — The reading of Baxter's Saint's Rest determined 
me to live more in heavenly meditation." — '^Walked 
by moonlight, and found it a sweet relief to my mind 
to think of God and consider my ways before him. I 
was strongly impressed with the vanity of the world 



44 DECIDES ON 

and could not help wondering at the imperceptible 
operation of grace, which had enabled me to resign 
the expectations of happiness from it." — How frequent- 
ly has my heart been refreshed, by the descriptions in 
the Scriptures of the future glory of the Church, and the 
happiness of man hereafter." — "I felt the force of 
Baxter's observation, that if an angel had appointed to 
meet me, T should be full of awe; — how much more 
when I am about to meet God." " In my usual prayer 
at noon, besought God to give me a heart to do his 

will." — " For poor I interceded most earnestly, 

even with tears." 

That one thus eminently watchful and holy, who 
*' counted all things but loss for the excellency of the 
knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord," should speak of 
himself in the strongest terms of self-condemnation, 
will appear incongruous to those only who forget that 
the prophet, w^ho uttered in the presence of Jehovah 
the words of submissive devotion, " Here am I, send 
me," exclaimed at the same time, in the lowly lan- 
guage of contrition, ^' Woe is me, for I am undone, for 
I am a man of unclean lips ;" and thus it was when the 
Laodiceans ceased to know that they were " wretched, 
and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked," that 
they became defective in zeal for the glory of their 
Saviour. Whoever considers that tenderness of con- 
science is found always in an exact proportion to fer- 
vent desires after an entire conformity to the divine 
image, will be prepared to expect, and pleased to pe- 
ruse, such humble confessions and sacred aspirations 
as Mr. Martyn's/ which seem to bring us back to the 
days of Ephrai^ the Syrian and St. Augustine. — " The 
essence of Evangelical humiliation," observes a cele- 
brated writer* on the Religious affections, " consists 
in such humility as becomes a creature under a dispen- 
sation of grace, consisting in a mean esteem of himself, 

^Jonathan Edwards. 



iJtcuvi.NG A MISSIONARY. 45 

as nothing, and as altogether contemptible and odious, 
attended with a mortification of a disposition to exalt 
himself, and a free renunciation of his own glory. — He 
that has much grace, apprehends, much more than 
others, that gro^t height to which his love ought to 
ascend, and lie sees better than others how little a way 
he has risen towards that height, and, therefore, esti<» 
mating his love by the whole height of his duty, it ap- 
pears astonishingly little and low in his eyes. — It most 
demonstratively appears, that true grace is of that na- 
ture, that the more a person has of it, with remaining 
corruption, the less does his goodness and holiness 
appear, in proportion, not only to his past deformity, 
but to his present deformity, in the sin that now appears 
in his heart, and in the abominable defects of his highest 
affections and brightest experience." — What better 
comment can be found on these profoundly scriptural 
lem^arks of a divine who stood singularly high in Mr. 
Martyn's estimation, than the self-abasing acknow- 
ledgments which follow ? 

*' What a sink of corruption is the heart! and yet I 
can go from day to day in self-seeking and self-pleas- 
ing. Lord! shew me myself, as nothing but wounds 
and bruises and putrifying sores, and teach me to live 
by faith on Christ myall." — " I fear the exemption from 
assaults, either external or internal, is either in itself a 
bad symptom of self-ignorance, or leads to pride and 
self-seeking. Reveal to me the evil of my heart, O 
thou heart-searching God." 

" I feel a sad strangeness between God and my soul, 
from careless, unbelieving prayer; I am afraid the work 
of grace is but shallow. I pray, but look not for an 
answer from above: but while I consider, at the times 
of prayer, every grace as coming from God, yet, in the 
general tenor of my course, I seem to lay the greater 
stress on my own endeavours, heedless of the strength 
of Christ."—-** How much better it is to have a peace- 
ful sense of my own wretchedness, and a humble wait' 



46 DECIDES ON 

ing upon God for sanctifying grace, than to talk much 
and appear to be somebody in religion!" 

*' O my God I who seest me write, and recordest in 
the book of thy remembrance more faithfully, my sins 
and backslidings, bring down my soiil to repent in 
dust and ashes for my waste of time, carnal compla- 
cency, and self-sufficiency. I would desire to devote 
myself anew to thee in Christ; though I fear I hardly 
know what it means, so great, in reality, is my igno- 
rance of myself." 

" Short and superficial in prayer this morning, and 
there undoubtedly is the evil. Read Lowth ;— learnt 
the 15th of John ; and endeavoured faintly to be draw- 
ing nigh unto God. Read Brainerd's Journal in the 
afternoon. At Mr. Simeon's church this evening, my 
mind was wandering and stupid. His sermon was very 
impressive, on Rev. iii. 3. Thanks to God that though 
my graces are declining, and my corruptions increas- 
ing, I am not unwilling to be reclaimed. For with all 
this evil in my heart, I would not, could not, choose 
any other than God for my portion." — " At dear Mr. 
Simeon's rooms I perceived that I had given him pain 
by inattention to his kind instructions. Base wretch 
that I am, that by carelessness and unmortified pride, 
I should thus ungratefully repay his unexampled kind- 
ness. But if the sense of ingratitude to man be thus 
painful, what ought I not to feel in reference to God, 
that good and holy Being, whose sparing mercy keeps 
me out of hell, though I daily dishouour Christ, and 
grieve his holy Spirit I But O, my soul ! it is awful to 
trifle in religion : Confession is not repentance, neither 
is the knowledge of sin, contrition." — " Hearing I was 
to meet two men who were not serious, I felt pride, 
contempt, and discontent, to be the torment of my heart." 
— " Condemned myself for not exerting mj^self in doing 
good to man, by visiting the sick, &c. Certainly every 
grace must be in excercise <'f we would enjoy the com- 
i;»union of the perfect God. ' I am the almighty God, 



BECOIMING A MISSIONARY. 47 

walk before me and be thou perfect.' Every wheel 
of the chariot must be in motion to gain the race." 

" I found a want of the presence of God from the 
fear of having acted against the suggestion of con- 
science, in indulging myself with reading tlie amusing 
account of Dr. Vanderkemp, instead of applying to the 
severer duties of the morning. God be merciful to me 
a sinner! 

" Was in a composed state, but security led to pride. 
On my looking up to God, for pardon of it and for 
deliverance from it, I feel overwhelmed with guilt. 
How fast does pride ripen the soul for hell !" — " Retain- 
ed the manna of past experience till it putrified in my 
hand." — " How utterly forgetful have I been this day 
of the need of Christ's grace, of my own poverty and 
vileness! Let me then remember, that all apparent joy 
in God, without humility, is a mere delusion of Sa- 
tan." — " This is my birth-day, and I am ashamed to 
review the past: Lord Jesus, watch over me in the 
deceitful calm! Let me beware of the lethargy, lest it 
terminate in death. I desir^^ on this day to renew my 
vows to the Lord, and O that every succeeding year of 
my life may be more devoted to His- glory than the 
last." 

'' I thought that my fretfulness and other marks of an 
unsubdued spirit arose from a sense of my corruption, 
and a secret dependance on my own powers for a cure. 
Were I to bring the maladies of my soul to the great 
Physician, in simple reliance on his grace, I should with 
many other benefits, receive a cure of that bane of my 
peace, disappointed arrogance, which proudly seeks 
for good where it can' never be found. In every dis- 
ease of the soul, let me charge myself with the blame, 
and Christ with the cure of it, so shall I be humbled 
and Christ glorified." — " I do not doubt but that I be- 
long to God, yet I am afraid to rejoice in that relation. 
I do not live in the sense of my own helplessness, and 
therefore do not perceive that my security is not in my- 



48 DECIDES OW 

self, but in Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, 
and for ever." — I found that the omission of my jour- 
nal had been attended with bad effects. O wretched 
man that I am! If God's word did not unequivocally 
declare the desperate wickedness of the heart, I should 
sink down in despair. . Nothing but infinite grace can 
save me. But that which most grieves me, is, that I 
am not more humbled at the contemplation of myself." 

*' When I look back on every day, I may say I have 
lost it. So much time misspent, so many oppor- 
tunities lost, of doing good, by spreading the knowledge 
of the truth by conversation, or by example: so little 
zeal for God, or love to man; so much vanity, and 
levity, and pride, and selfishness, that I may well trem- 
. ble at the world of iniquity within. If ever I am sa- 
ved it must be by grace. May God give me a humble, 
contrite, childlike, affectionate spirit, and a willingness 
to forego my ease continually for his service." 

" What is my journal, but a transcript of my follies % 
what else is the usual state of my mind but weakness, 
vanity, and sin? O that I could meditate constantly 
upon divine things; that the world and its poor con- 
cerns might no more distract my heart from God. But 
how little do I know or experience of the power of 
Christ ! Truly I find my proneness to sin, and that gene- 
rally prevailing ignorance of my mind by which all mo- 
tives to diligence and love are made to disappear, to be 
my misery. Now, therefore, I desire to become a fool, 
that I may be wise : ' the meek will He guide in judg- 
ment.' " 

"I felt humbled at the remembrance of misspent 
hours, and while this frame of mind continued, all the 
powers of my soul were perceptibly refreshed. The 
last three chapters of St. John were peculiarly sweet, 
and I longed to love. Mr. Simeon preached on John 
XV. 13; 'This is my commandment, that ye love one an- 
other, as I have loved you.' I saw my utter want of 
such a love as he described it : so disinterested, sympa- 



BECOMING A MISSIONARY. 49 

thising", beneficent, and self-denying. Resolved to 
make the acquisition of it the daily subject of my future 
endeavours." — " I cared not what was the state of plea- 
sure or pain in my heart, so that I knew its depth of ini- 
quity, and could be poor and contrite in spirit; but it 
is hard and stubborn and ignorant." — " Pride shews 
itself every hour of every day; what long and undi-s- 
turbed possession does self-complacency hold of my 
heart! what plans, and dreams, and visions^ of futu- 
rity fill my imagination, in which self is the prominent 
object." — " In my intercourse with some of my dear 
friends, the workings of pride were but too plainly 
marked in my outward demeanour; — on looking up to 
God for pardon for it, and deliverance from it, I felt 
overwiielmed with guilt. — I was unwilling to resume 
my studies, while so much seemed to remain to be 
done in my own heart. Read Hopkin's Sermon on 
true Happiness, and analysed it. The obedience 
required in it terrified me at first, but afterwards I 
could adore God that he had required me to be perfectly 
holy. I thought that I could cheerfully do his will, 
though the world, the flesh, and the devil should rise 
up against me; I desired to be filled with the fruits of 
righteousness, particularly with humility and love for 
the poor of Christ's flock. " 

" Drew near to the Lord in prayer, but was rather 
elevated than humbled afterwards. At Mr. Simeon's 
was deeply impressed with his sermon onEccles. viii. 
11. It was a complete picture of the human heart; 
and when he came to say, that they sinned habitually, 
deliberately, and without remorse, I could scarcely be- 
lieve I was so vile a wretch as I then saw myself to be. 
It was a most solemn discourse." — "The less we do, 
the more we value it; how poor, and mean, and pitiful 
would many even of present Christians esteem my life ! 
Dear Saviour, I desire to be no more lukewarm, but to 
walk nigh to God, to be dead to the world, and longing 
for the coming of Christ." 

E 



50 DECIDES ON 

*' I read Hebrew, and the Greek of the Epistle to 
the Hebrews. This Epistle is not only not most un- 
interesting, as it formerly was, but is now the sweetest 
portion of the Holy Scripture I know; partly, I sup- 
pose, because I can look up to Jesus as my High Priest, 
though I may very often doubt whether I am interested 
in him : Yet O how free is his love to the chief of sin- 
ners!" — "How many of my days are lost, if their 
worth is to be measured by the standard of prevailing 
heavenly-mindedness ! I want, above all things, wil- 
lingness to be xiespised. What but the humbling in- 
fluence of the Spirit, shewing me my vileness and des- 
perate wickedness, can ever produce such an habitual 
temper 1" 

" Mr. Simeon's sermon this evening on 2d Chron. 
xxxii. 31, discovered to me my corruption and vileness 
more than any sermon I had ever heard." '' Oh I that 
I had a more piercing sense of the divine presence : 
How much sin in the purest services ! If I were sitting 
in heavenly places with Christ, or rather with my 
thoughts haibtully there, how would every duty, but 
especially this of social prayer, became easy. Memo- 
ria tua sancta et dulcedo tua beatissima possideat ani- 
mam meam, atque in invisibilium amoremrapiatillam." 

"This da)?^ was set apart for a public fast. I pray- 
ed rather more than two hours, chiefly with confession 
of my own sins, those of my family, and the church : 
alas ! so much was required to be said on the first head, 
that I should have been at no loss to have dwelt upon 
it the whole day." — " Suffered sleepiness to prevent 
my reading to my servant : it is hurtful to my con- 
science to let slight excuses for an omission of duty 
to prevail." — " O what cause for shame and self-abhor- 
rence arises from the review of every day : — in morning 
prayer, as usual of late, my soul longed to leave its 
corruptions, to think of Christ and live by him. I la- 
boured to represent to myself powerful considerations, 
to stir up my slothful heart to activity, particularly 



BECOMING A MISSIONARV. 61 

that which respects giving instructions to, and praying 
with, people. I set before myself the infinite mercy 
of being out of hell— of being permitted to do the will 
of God — of the love of Christ, which was so disinte- 
rested — how he passed his life in going about doing 
good — how those men who were truly the blessed 
Apostles, did the same — how the holy angels would 
delight to be employed on errands of mercy. A ray 
of light seems to break upon my mind for a moment 
and discovers the folly and ignorance of this sinful 
heart, but it quickly returns to its former hardness. 
My will is to sit all day reading, not making any ef- 
fort to think, but letting the book fill the mind with a 
succession of notions : and when the time comes for 
reading the Scripture and praying, then it recoils. 
When an opportunity offers of speaking for the good 
of others, or assisting a poor person, then it makes a 
thousand foolish excuses. It would rather go on wrapt 
in self, and leave the world to perish. Ah ! what a 
heart is mine ! The indistinctness of my view of its 
desperate wickedness is terrible to me, that is, when I 
am capable of feeling any terror. But now my soul I 
rise from earth and hell ; — shall Satan lead me captive 
at his will, when Christ never liveth to m^^ke interces- 
sion for the vilest worm ? O thou ! whose I am by cre- 
ation, preservation, redemption, no longer my own, 
but, his who lived and died and rose again, once more 
would I resign this body and soul, mean and worthless 
as they are, to the blessed disposal of thy holy will ! — 
May I have a heart to love God and his people, the flesh 
being crucified ! May grace abound, where sin has 
abounded much! May I cheerfully and joyfully resign 
my case and life in the service of Jesus, to whom I 
owe so much ! May it be sweet to me to proclaim to 
sinners like myself the blessed efficacy of my Saviour's 
blood ! May he make me faithful unto death ! The 
greatest enemy I dread is pride of my own heart. 
Though pride reigning, I should forget to know a bro- 



53 BIS ORDINATION. 

ken spirit : then would come on unbelief — weakness, 
— apostacy." — "If it is a mercy that I am out of hell, 
what account should I make of the glorious work of the 
ministry, to which I am to be called, who am not 
worthy to be trodden under foot of men." 

Thus having attained to a degree of self-knowledge 
and spirituality equally rare, and being thoroughly in- 
structed how "he ought to behave himself in the 
Church of God — the Church of the living God — the 
pillar and ground of the truth," Mr. Martyn prepared 
for the solemn rite of his ordination, which u'as admi- 
nistered at Ely on Sunday, Oct. 22, 1803; 'Blessed ^s 
the man whom Thou choosest, and causest to approach 
unto Thee, that he may dwell in thy courts ; Psal. 
Lxv. 4. This blessing surely rested in an eminent de- 
gree on Mr. Martyn; for what a contrast does his ap- 
proach to the altar on this occasion exhibit to that of 
those, who presumptuously intrude into the sacred of- 
fice ' seeking their OAvn things and not the things of 
Jesus Christ.' Truly might he affirm, that he was 
" inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost, to take upon 
him that office and ministration, to serve God by promo- 
ting his glory, and edifying his people ;" and truly did 
he resolve to " give himself continually to prayer and 
to the ministry of the word." Yet his self-abasement 
was as usual conspicuous, and he bewailed having pre- 
sented himself for admission into the, ministry of the 
Lord Jesus, "in so much ignorance and unholiness; 
and^ at the same time poured out his^rayer, that he 
might have " grace to fulfil those promises which he 
had made before God and the people." The awful 
weight of ordination vows was impressed on no one's 
mind more deeply than on his; — the thought of his 
responsibility would have overwhelmed him, had he 
not been supported by remembering that the treasure 
of the Gospel was placed ' in earthen vessels, that ex- 
cellency of power might be of God and not of man. 
That which was the comfort of Polycarp as a Bi* 



iilS ORDINATION* 53 

«liop, was his consolation as a Deacon — that he who 
was constituted nri^overscer of the Church, was himself 
overlooked by Jesus Christ — and that in the discharge 
of his office as pastor of the flock, he was ever under 
the gracious superintendence of that great and good 
Shepherd who 'laid down his life for the sheep.' 

A circumstance which occured at this time shews 
how seriously his mind was aflTected. From a consti- 
tutional delicacy and reserve, no one had naturally a 
greater reluctance than Mr. Martyn to obtrude himself 
on the notice of others in the way of admonition ; it was 
a task from which his feelings recoiled. Observing, 
however, with pain and sorrow, one of the candidates 
for ordination in an apparently careless and unconcerned 
state, he took an opportunity, though the party was not 
personally known to him, of admonishing him privately 
on the subject: 'and in what a strain suck a man would 
speak at such a moment, may more easily be conceived 
than expressed. A deep conviction of the necessity 
of reproving others, and not suffering sin to remain in 
them, often induced Mr. Martyn to do violence to the 
retiring tenderness of his disposition. /He felt reproof 
to be " a duty of unlimited extent and almost insupe- 
rable difficulty — but," said he, " the way to know when 
to address men, and w^hen to abstain, ^ ^5 fo/oije," and, 
as love is most genuine when the heart is most abased, 
he resolved not to reprove others, where he could con- 
scientiously be silent, except he experienced at the time 
a peculiarv^ontrition of spirit./ 

e2 



54 COMMENCEMENT OF 



CHAPTER III. 

COMMENCEMENT OF HIS MINISTERIAL LABOURS COLLEGIATE 

DUTIES APPLIES FOR A CHAPLAINSHIP UNDER THE EAST 

INDIA COMPANY VISITS CORNWALL HIS SUFFERINGS ON 

LEAVING ENGLAND. 

The exercise of his pastoral function Mr. Martyii 
commenced as curate of the Rev. C. Simeon, in the 
Church of the Holy Trinity in Cambridge; undertak- 
ing likewise the charge of the parish of Lolwortlf, a 
small village at no great distance from the University. 
There it was, on the Sunday after his ordination, that 
he preached his first sermon, on the following words : 
' If a man die, shall he live again ?^-all the days of my 
appointed time will I wait, till my change come:' Job. 
xiv. 14. After delivering his second sermon at which 
place, on the succeeding Sunday, an incident occurred 
on his way home, which he recorded in his Journal, 
and which could not well be effaced from his remem- 
brance. An old man, who had been one of his auditors, 
walked by the side of his horse for a considerable time, 
warning him to reflect, that if any_souls perished 
through his negligence, theif blood would be required 
at his hand. He exhorted him to shew his hearers 
that they were perishing sinners ; to be much engaged 
in secret prayer; and to labour after an entire depar- 
ture from himself to Christ. " From what he said on 
the last head, (observes Mr. Martyn,) it was clear that 
I had but little experience: but I lifted up my heart 
afterwards to the Lord, that I might be fully instructed 
in righteousness." — So meekly and thankfully did this 
young minister listen to the affectionate counsel of an 
old disciple. 



MINISTERIAL LABOURS. 55 

On Thursday, Nov. 10, he preached for the first time 
at Trinity Church, to a numerous and earnestly atten- 
tive congregation, upon part of that address of Jesus 
to the woman of Samaria:— 'If thou knewest the gift 
of God, and who it is that saith unto thee. Give me 
to drink, thoa wouldst have asked of him, and he 
would have given thee living water,' John iv. 10: when 
it was his fervent desire and prayer to enter fully into 
the solemn spirit of those well-known lines, 

"I'd preach as though I ne'er should preach again ; 
I'd preach as dying unto dying men." 

Nor could words characterise more justly the usual 
strain of his preaching : for whether the congregation 
he addressed were great or small, learned and refined, 
or poor and ignorant, he spake as one who had a mes- 
sage to them from God, and who was impressed with 
the consideration, that hoth he and they must shortly 
stand before the Judge of quick and dead' 

The burthens and difficulties of his sacred employ- 
ments lay heavily at first on Mr. Martyn's mind, and 
considerably depressed his spirits; but he endeavoured, 
he writes in a letter to his earliest friend, to keep in 
view " the unreasonableness of his discontent (who 
was a brand plucked out of the fire) and the glorious 
blessedness of the ministerial work." At times, he 
confesses, he was tried with a " sinful dislike of his 
parochial duty" — and seemed frequently "as a stone 
speaking to stones"—- and he laments that "want of 
private devotional reading, and shortness of prayer, 
through incessant sermon-making, had produced much 
strangeness between God and his soul."— " Every 
time," he remarked, " that I open the Scriptures, my 
thoughts are about a sermon or exposition, so that even 
in private I seemed to be reading in public." Young 
ministers, those especially who are placed in extensive 
spheres of action— are not ignorant of the temptations 
of which Mr. Martyn here complains ;— and to them 



56 COLLErrlATE DUTIES. 

it must he a consolation to be assured, that the same 
trials were not unknown to one of the most devoted 
and most faithful of their brethren. 

Added to those duties which had now become his 
peculiar care, and in which, notwithstanding some 
momentary depressions, he continued steadfast and un- 
moveable, always abounding in his work — an office of 
another kind devolved on him towards the close of the 
year 1803; that of one of the public examiners in his 
college ; and if it were too much to say, that an exa- 
mination in the classics at St. John's has rarely been 
conducted more to the credit of the society, or to the 
advantage of the students, or to the honour of the ex- 
aminer; certainly it would not be declaring too much 
to aver, that never since the foundation of the college has 
one been held in a more Christain spirit, and in a more 
strict accordance with that extensive apostolical injunc- 
tion — ' Whatsoever ye do, in word or deed, do all in the 
name of the Lord Jesus.' The vigilance with which 
Mr. Martyn prepared for this duty, and the humility 
with which he speaks of himself when engaged in the 
execution of it, shew that his Christianity was of the 
highest proof. 

*'I read Mitford's History of Greece, as I am to be, 
classical examiner. To keep my thoughts from wan- 
dering away to take pleasure in these studies,required 
more watchfulness and earnestness in pxayer than I can 
account for. But earnest ejaculation was effectual to 
make me return to the word of God with some delight. 
' The carnal mind is enmity against God' — and so I 
find it, I was obliged to reason with myself, and to 
force open my eyes, that I might see the excellency 
of divine things. Did I delight in reading the retreat 
of the ten thousand Greeks, and shall not my soul glory 
in the knowledge of God, w^ho created the Greeks, 
and the vast countries over which they passed 1 1 ex- 
amined in Butler's Analogy, and in Xenophon ; how 
much pride and ostentatious display of learning was 



KSVIEW OF X PAST YEAB. * 67 

visible in my conduct ! — how that detestable spirit 
follows whatever I do."" 

It was customary with Mr. Martyn, at the com- 
mencement of a new year, to take a solemn review of 
the time past, and contemplate his future prospects. 
Ill the review of his Journal of the year 1803, he judg- 
ed that he had dedicated too much time to public mi- 
nistrations, and too little to private communion with 
God. Yet he trusted that he had grown in grace, in- 
asmuch as the bent of his desires was towards God, 
more than when he first thou.srht of becoming a Mis- 
sionary. " In heavenly contemplation and abstraction of 
mind," he adds, " my attainments have fallen far short 
of my expectation; but in a sense of m.y own worth- 
lessness and guilt, and in a consequent subjugation 
of the will, and in a disposition for labour and active 
exertion, I am inclined to think myself gaining ground. 
My soul approves thoroughly the life of God, and my 
one only desire is to be entirely devoted to him: and 
O may I live very near him in the ensuing year, and 
follow the steps of Christ and his holy saints. I have 
resigned, in profession, the riches, the honours, and the 
comforts of this world : and I think also it is a resig- 
nation of the heart." Then after having set apart a 
day for fasting and prayer, he besought God " for un- 
derstanding and strength, to fit him for a long life of 
constant warfare and self-denial; and that he might see 
clearly why he was placed here, how short the time w^as, 
and how excellent to labour for souls, and, above all, to 
feel his desert of hell." He prayed also for grace, to 
"enlighten him in the dark seasons of trouble and de- 
sponding faith; that he might not shrink from cold and 
hunger, and painful labour, but might follow the Lamb 
whithersoever he went." His soul longed for perfec- 
tion, but he " feared he had not yet learned the secret 
of happiness — a poor and contrite sprit." 

In the early part of the year 1804, Mr. Martj^n's ex- 
pectations of becoming a Missionary were considerably 



58 APPLIES FOR A CHaPLAINSMIP 

damped by a very trying event of his losing all his 
slender patrimony ; a loss rendered more severe to him 
by the circumstance of his younger sister being in- 
volved in the same calamity. His designs of leaving 
England vi^ere, in consequence of this disaster, likely to 
be frustrated : for his pecuniary resources were cut off, 
and it appeared to him scarcely justifiable to leave his 
sister in actual distress, vi^hen his presence in England 
might alleviate or remove it. . In order, therefore, that 
he might consult some of his friends in this emergency, 
at the end of June he left Cambridge for London. . 

The situation of a Chaplain to the East India Com- 
pany had long appeared to many of those w^ho took a 
lively interest in him and his vrork, to be peculiarly 
eligible, as offering singular facilities for Missionary 
exertions among millions of Idolaters. The pecuni- 
ary advantages of the appointment were at first wholly 
out of their contemplation ; and for himself, when it 
was intimated to him that there was some expectation 
of his leaving England in the capacity of Chaplain to 
the East India Company — his private Journal con- 
tains this remarkable reflection. — " The prospect of 
this world? s happiness gave me rather pain than plea-- 
aure^ which convinced me that I had been running away 
from the world rather than overcoming it?^ That unex- 
pected change which had now taken place in Mr. Mar- 
tyn's circumstances caused an increased anxiety amongst 
his friends to procure if possble, the appointment which 
before they had deemed so desirable; and they were not 
without hopes of seeing the Mission Church at Calcut- 
ta placed under his pastoral superintendence. Insu- 
perable obstacles, however, interfered with this ar- 
rangement, and " a veil was thus cast over his future 
proceedings." 

The patience which Mr. Martyn manifested under 
this disappointment was as edifying and extraordinar}', 
as the watchfulness which he exercised over his mind 
during his visit to London, lest scenes- so different from 



UNDER THE EAST INDIA r03IPANV. 59 

those at Cambridge, should prove to him a source of dis' 
traction and dissipation. He speaks at this time of return- 
ing on one occasion to his room, after having been much 
abroad and making many visits, " unable to remain in 
an unholy dissipated state, and seeking God earnestly 
in prayer." Whilst waiting at the India House he em- 
ployed that time — " for which," he says, " he would 
have given any thing at Cambridge," in private eja- 
culatory prayer, and in repeating passages from, the word 
of God ; — and yet, though he ever aimed at an entire ab- 
straction from the vanities of tlie world, he hesitated 
not to allow himself the full enjoyment of rational and 
refined gratifications : his observations on this head are 
well worth recording: '* Since I have known God in a 
saving manner," he remarks, " painting, poetry and mu- 
sic, have had charms unknown to me before. I have 
received what I suppose is a taste for them ; for reli- 
gion has refined my mind, and made it susceptible of 
impressions from the sublime and beautiful. O how 
relio-ion secures the heightened enjoyment of those 
pleasures which keep so many from God, by their be- 
coming a source of pride." 

Unable at present to discern the cloud which should 
conduct him on his way, Mr. Martyn resumed his mi- 
nisterial functions at Cambridge with ardour, but with 
a heavy heart. The affairs of his family, affecting, as 
they did, his own destination as well as his sister's 
happiness, w-ere no light pressure upon his spirits; in 
any other point of view they would scarcely have rais- 
ed a sigh, and certainly would not greatly have disturb- 
ed his composure. But when '' most oppressed," he 
was enabled to find comfort in reflecting, that " even 
such a condition was infinitely preferable to that of 
those, whose minds were discontented in the pursuits 
of dangerous trifles." 

The words of the wise man, that " the day of death 
is better than the day of one's birth," can apply only 
to those who practically discern in the light of the Scrip- 



60 ^ HIS MINISTRY AT 

tures the great end of their existence. This subject 
was ever in Mr. Martyn's contemplation; and that he 
might more closely consider the object for which he 
was created, he never failed in making a particular 
commemoration of the anniversary of his birth. — 
" Twenty three years have elapsed," (he wrote on the 
18th of February, 1804,) " since I saw the light; — only 
four of which have been* professedly given to God; 
— muchhasbeen leftundone; — much remains to bedone 
as a christian and minister; yet my past experience of 
the long-suffering of God, leaves me no doubt of being 
carried on all the way. I feel that my heart is wholly 
for heaven, and the world mainly behind my back* 
Praised be the Lord for his mercy and patience I The 
number of my days is fixed in his purpose: — O may I 
' glorify him on earth, and finish the work he has given 
me to do.' " 

That his heart was " wholly for heaven," is evinced 
by the following reflection on a conversation in the hall 
of St John's. " At dinner they were talking of stones 
falling from the moon. My imagination began to 
ascend among the shining worlds hung in the midst of 
space, and to glance from one to another, and my heart 
bounded at the thought that I was going a much surer 
way to behold the glories of the Creator hereafter, than 
by given up my time to speculations about them." 

In the interval which passed between the months of 
February and June, he was found earnestly labouring in 
the service of his divine Master. He preached ani- 
mating and awakening discourses : he excited societies 
of private Christians to " watch, quit themselves as men, 
and be strong:" he visited many of the poor, the afflict- 
ed, and the dying : he warned numbers of the careless 
and profligate : — in a word, he did the work of an Evan- 
gelist. Often did he redeem time from study, from 
recreation, and from the intercourse of friends, that like 
his Redeemer, he might enter the abodes of misery, 
either to arouse the unthinking slumberer, or to admi- 



LOLWORTH AND CAMBRIDGE. 61 

luster consolation to the dejected penitent. Many an 
hour did he pass in an hospital or an alms-house; — and 
often, after a day of labour and fatigue, when wearied 
almost to the extremity of endurance, he would read 
and pray with the servant who had the care of his 
rooms, thus making it his meat and drink, his rest, as 
well as his Ifibour, to do the will of his heavenly Father, 
in conformity to the example of Christ : 



' His care was fixed ; 



To fill his odorous lamp with deeds of light, 
And hopetliat reaps not shame." 

The delight he experienced on hearing that benefit 
resulted from his exertions, proved to him an ample 
recompence for every sacrifice of time, comfort,. or con- 
venience; and it was equalled only by the humility 
with which he received such cheering intelligence. " I 
was encouraged" (he observes on receiving a commu- 
nication of this nature) " and refreshed beyond descrip- 
tion, and I could only cheerfully and gratefuly ofifer up 
myself to God's service; but it was at the same time a 
check to my pride to reflect that, though God might in 
his sovereignty bless his word by my mouth, I was not 
on that account the less sinful in my ministrations." 
On another occasion, with touching simplicity and 
true lowliness, he writes after meeting some of his flock 
in the way so strongly and ably recommended by the 
present Bishop of Chester — "I spoke for twenty mi- 
nutes on * Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.' 
— When shall I pour out of a full heart these blessed and 
divine truths which drop from these lips of clay ! An 
old woman at the conclusion said, " the Lord Almighty 
bless you !" This unexpected benediction encouraged 
me much." 

The incalculable value of habits of self-denial seems 

never to have been more deeply impressed upon the 

mind of Mr. Martyn than at this time. — " A despicable 

indulgence in lying in bed," he says, "gave me such 

F 



62 HIS MINISTRY AT 

a view of the softness of my character, that I resolved 
on my knees, to live a life of more self-denial : the tone 
and vigour of my mind rose rapidly : all those duties 
from v^^hich I usually shrink, seemed recreations. I 
collected all the passages from the four Gospels that 
had any reference to this subject ; — it is one on which 
I need to preach to myself, and mean to preach to others. 
Whenever I can say, ' thy will be done,' ' teach me to 
do thy will O God, for thou art my God;' it is like 
throwing ballast out of an air-balloon ; my soul ascends 
immediately. And light and happiness shine around 
me." Such was his thirst after this Christian temper ! 
such his enjoyment of its blessedness! 
, At the beginning of the present year, Mr. Martyn 
was apprehensive, as we have seen, of having bestow- 
ed too much time on public duties ; and too little on 
those which are private and personal. He was fully 
persuaded that in order to take heed effectually to his 
ministry, he must, in obedience to the apostolic injunc- 
tion, ' take heed ' primarily ' to himself :' and this, in 
fact, was his settled course and practice. He would 
sometimes set apart seasons for humiliation and prayer, 
and would frequently spend whole evenings in devotion. 
Of the Bible he could ever affirm, 'thy word is very 
pure, therefore thy servant loveth it.' ' The word of 
Christ dwelt richly in him in all wisdom.' Large 
portions of it did he commit to memory, repeating them 
during his solitary walks, at those times w^hen he was 
not expressly meditating on some scriptural subject, 
which was his general custom: and so deep was his 
veiieration for the word of God, that when a suspicion 
arose in his mind, that any other book he might be stu- 
dying was about to gain an undue influence over his 
affections, he instantly laid it aside, nor would he re- 
sume it till he had felt and realized the paramount ex- 
cellence of the divine oracles : he could not rest satis- 
fied till all those lesser lights which were beginning to 



LOLWROTII AND CAMRUIDGE. 63 

dazzle him, had disappeared before the ^ulgence of 
the Scriptures. 

How much he loved secret prayer, and how vigilant- 
ly he engaged in the exercise of it, may be seen in the 
subjoined remarks on that subject:—" I felt the need of 
setting apart a day for the restoration of my soul by 
solemn prayer: my vie\\'s of eternity are become dim 
and transient. I could live for ever in prayer if I could 
always speak to God. I sought to pause, and to consi- 
der what I wanted, and to look up with fear and faith, 
and I found the benefit; for my soul was soon compo- 
sed to that devout sobriety which I knew by its sweet- 
ness to be its proper frame. — I was engaged in prayer 
in the manner I like, deep seriousness ; at the end of 
it, I felt great fear of forgetting the presence of God, 
and of leaving him as soon as I should leave the pos- 
ture of devotion. I was led through the mists of un- 
belief, and spake to God as one that was true; and re- 
joiced exceedingly that he was holy and faithful. I en- 
deavoured to consider myself as being alone on the 
earth with him, and that greatly promoted my approach 
to his presence. My prayer for a meek and holy so- 
briety was granted ! O how sweet the dawn of heaven!" 

Nor was Mr. Martyn less diligent and fervent in the 
yet higher branch of Christian worship — thanksgiving. 
" Let me praise God," he would say, " for having turn- 
ed me from a life of woe to the enjoyment of peace and 
hope. The work is real. I can no more doubt it than 
I can doubt my existence ; the whole current of my de- 
sires is altered — I am walking quite another way, 
though I am incessantly stumbling in that way."* " I 
had a most blessed viev/ of God and divine things: — 
O how great is his excellency ! I find my heart pain- 
ed for want of words to praise him according to his 
excellent greatness, I looked forward to complete con- 
formity to him, as the great end of my existence, and 
x^y assurance was full. I said, almost with tears, 
who shall separate us from the love of Christ]" ' 



64 HIS MINISTRY AT 

It has been well observed,* that *'^we may Judge, 
by our regard for the Sabbath, whether eternity will be 
forced upon us." The application of this rule, as it re- 
spects Mr. Martyn, will discover a singular meetness in 
him for the inheritance of the saints in light. His 
Sabbaths were Sabbaths indeed — the antepast, often, 
of that rest which is everlasting. < 

Let us hear his own description of his happiness at 
some of those sacred times : — " Before setting out to 
go to Lolworth, I endeavoured to cast away all those 
contemptible prejudices and dislikes which I often feel, 
and on the road experienced a sweet sense of the di- 
vine presence, and happy meditation on God and his 
truths. I was thinking of the love of Christ, and of 
his unparalleled humility, and that to him belonged all 
the glory, as having truly merited it. I felt quite de- 
voted to God and assured of his love : I did not doubt 
of having been apprehended by Christ, (for the pur- 
pose, I hope, of preaching his Gospel,) and during the 
service my heart was full of love and joy." "At 
church, this morning, my heart was overflowing with 
joy: during the sermon, which was an exhortation to 
diligence, a sense of my unprofitableness depressed me. 
But in my ride to Lolworth, I enjoyed sweet delight; 
— every breeze seemed to breathe love into my heart ; 
and while I surveyed the landscape, I looked forward 
to the dciys when all nations should come to the moun- 
tain of the Lord's House." 

By those who forget the history of our Lord's life, it 
might be conceived, that one so blameless and harm- 
. less as Mr. Martyn, so poor in spirit, and pure in heart, 
would pass on his way unassailed by calumny or un- 
kindness. But those who dravv^ their anticipations 
from the Scripture, will not 'marvel' that he should be 
called to endure unjust insinuations and aspersions, 
when his whole life was devoted to the welfare of his 
fellow-creatures. Yet, ' when reviled he reviled not 
'^Adnms' Private Thoughts, 



l.Uii\VURlJl ANU CA.AIBRIDGE. GO 

again, but committed himself to him that judj^eth right- 
eously.' " Is not this sweet, O my soul," he exclaim- 
ed under a trial of this kind, " to have a holy God to 
appeal to and converse with, though all the world 
should turn their backs'?" And it should be remarked 
here, that his patience under the severe and unmerited 
censures of others was not that which is sometimes 
mistaken for it, the indifference of apathy, or the su- 
perciliousness of contempt: the one was as abhorrent 
to his nature, as the other was to the principles of his 
Teligion. Censorious tongues were to him as they 
"were to David, '* Spears and arrows and sharp swords ; " 
so far from being callous to any attempts to wound his 
character and his peace, he acknowledges that obloquy 
was a trying exercise of his Christian temper, and he 
considered the dispensation as "wholesome," because 
"to be despised by men affected him very deeply." 
* But the name of the Lord is a strong tower: — the 
righteous runneth into it, and is safe.' " Conscious," 
said he, "that I did not deserve the censures that were 
cast upon me, I committed myself to God, and in him 
may I abide, till the indignation be overpast! " 

Those, however, Avho maligned and traduced Mr. 
Martyn's character, wounded his spirit far less than those 
who either scoffed at his high and self-denying designs 
of usefulness, or, from worldly motives, discouraged him 
from attempting their accomplishment. No one could 
be more ready than he to consider the fittest means for 
compassing the ends he had in view ; and to weigh 
beforehand the difficulties attending the life of a Mis- 
sionary, however favoured by external circumstances. 
But objections of a contemptuous kind, or those argu- 
ments which founded themselves on an ignorance of the 
very spirit of the Gospel, painfully affected his mind. 
His reflections, after a long discourse with a person 
who had addressed him with the kindest intentions, 
but with a judgment unenlightened by that wisdom 
which is from above, are worth preserving: — " All our 
r2 



GG niS MINISTUY AT 

conversation on the subject of religion ended in nothing. 
He was convinced that he was right, and all the texts 
I produced were, according to him, applicable only to 
the times of the Jlposiles. How am I constrained to 
adore God's sovereign mercy! My soul, dost thou not 
esteem all things but dung and dross for the excellency 
of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord? Yea, did 
not gratitude constrain me — did not duty and fear of 
destruction — yet surely the ^cellency of the service 
of Christ, would constrain me to lay down a thousand 
lives in the prosecution of it." When called to encoun- 
ter the ridicule of those v/ho, not knowing the hope of 
Christ's calling, nor the riches of the glory of his in- 
heritance in the saints, nor the exceeding greatness of 
his power towards those who believe, despised all la- 
bours of love amongst the Heathen as wild and vision- 
ary; the Lord helped him to keep his ground, and to 
bear his testimony. " With m.y Bible in my hand, and 
Christ at my right hand," said he, "I can do all 
things: what though the whole world believe not, God 
abideth true and my hope in him shall be steadfast." 

In the latter part of the spring of this year, he had the 
singular satisfaction of being introduced to a personal 
acquaintance v/ith one of a kindred spirit with himself 
— the late Henry Kirke White. Rare genius, and above 
all, sterling piety, could not fail of being greatly admired 
and highly prized by Mr. Martyn; he consequently 
took the liveliest interest in behalf of that extraordinary 
young man ; and used his utmost endearours to facili- 
tate his entrance upon that course at college, which 
afterwards proved so brilliant and so transient. 

Tho duties of a public examiner in St. John's were 
now, in the month of June, for the second time consign- 
ed to Mr. Martyn ; — the subjects for examination being 
one of them from the Classics, the other, Locke's 
treaties on the Understanding. To those who embark 
in metaphysical disquisitions it will serve as a matter 
of caution — and to those who are harassed with dis- 



VISITS CORNWALL. 67 

tressing thoughts, it may administer consolation — to 
recite in Mr. Mart)^n's own words, the exquisite mental 
suflferings he endured, after allowing his mind a range 
of too unlimited a nature in these abstract questions. 
'* My soul," he writes, '' was filled with greater misery 
and horror than I ever before experienced. — I know not 
how to describe my feelings, or how I got into - them : 
— hut it was after metaphysical inquiries into the nature 
and end of my beings and in what consists the happiness 
of my souL I was afraid to leave off praying, and went 
to bed earnestly recommending my soul to Christ." 
*' I tremble," said he, on the succeeding day, '' to en- 
ter on these inquiries,- lest my beclouded reason should 
lead me to the brink of hell. But I know by experience 
that the spirit of submission, and a sense of the authority 
of God, is the only state in which I can ever be happy : 
and precisely in proportion as I depart from that state 
of things, I am unhappy. And so strong is this senti- 
ment, that w^ere it not my hope that I should one day 
wholly submit to God^ and descend to my right place ^ I 
would not wish to exist another moment. My trust is, 
that God will, according to the riches of his grace in 
Christ Jesus, enable a poor worm, who groans under 
pride, lo advance steadily and humbly to his end, and 
preserve him from those dreadful thoughts which almost 
overwhelm the soul." Thus, when in danger of being 
'^spoiled by philosophy," was his soul "upheld by 
the free spirit of a faithful God." cv^^ 

It now appeared to be past a doubt, that Mr.Martyn 
would succeed in obtaining a Chaplainship in the ser- 
vice of the East India Company; and that in the ensu- 
ing spring he would be summoned to leave the shores 
of his native country for ever. In July, therefore, he 
re-visited those scenes which were endeared to him by 
numberless eaily associations, and enlivened by the 
presence of many whom he admired and loved. * And 
here it is due to the full illustration of his Christian 
character to mention, that it was not merely tho ties of 



€8 VISITS CORNWALL. 

family or friendship which bound him to Cornwall; 
others there were of a tenderer if not stronger kind : 
for he had conceived a deeply fixed attachment for one, 
of whom less ought not, and more cannot be said, 
than that she was Vvorthy of him — an attachment which, 
whether he thought, as he afterwards did, that it 
should be encouraged, or as he now did, that, from pecu- 
liar circumstances, it ought to be repressed — equally 
-exhibits him as a man of God, w^hose affections were set 
upon things above, and not on things on the earth. 

As this was the first time he had been in Cornwall 
since his ordination, and the last time he expected ever to 
visit it, he was extremely anxious to testify the grace of 
God in his public ministry, whenever he had an oppor- 
tunity. Such, however, was the prejudice excited 
against his religious principles, that his labours were al- 
inost entirely confined to tv»'"o churches under the care 
of kis brother-in-law. There he frequently preached, 
"«andttr«re both his sisters heard him, the youngest with 
:mii:e4i 4elight, the eldest with a most gratifying appear- 
^mce oC liaving been seriously impressed by what fell 
IGramtii-siips. "I found," said he, " that she had been 
^deeply affected, and from her conversation I "received 
great satisfaction : — In the evening, I walked by the 
water-side till late, having my heart full of praise to God 
for having given me such hopes of my sister." 

To the Churches w^here he preached, the common 
people crowded in numbers. At Kenwyn — where he 
addressed them from 2 Cor. v. ^0, 21.^ ' Now then we 
are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech 
you by us ; we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye recon- 
ciled to God. For he hath made him to be sin for us ; 
who k^iew no sin, that we might be made the righteous- 
ness of God in him ;' — the church was so full that 
many were compelled to stand on the outside, and 
many were obliged to go away. How acceptable he 
was to those who loved and valued the Gospel, may be 
easily <;onceived ; yet such was his vigilance of mind 



VISITS CORNWALL. 69 

and tenderness of conscience, that <' their oommenda- 
tions occasioned him some/>a^^^," inasmuch as *' they 
tended to fan the flame of vanity." The Christain, es- 
pecially the Christain minister, has to pass through 
good report and evil report; — and praise is a severer 
test of the strength of his principles than dispraise* 
Mr. Martyn ever found it so ; and he e^^perienced him- 
self, as well as exemplified to others, the truth of those 
words of wisdom — ^' as the lining pot for silver, and 
the furnace for gold, so is a man to his praise :" Prov« 
xxvii, 21. 

In the private and morere tired duties of his calling, 
he was now, as usual, most unremitting in his attention : 
these, in fact, were to him the most delightful parts of 
his vocation. Happier would he have esteemed it as 
far as his personal feelings were concerned, to kneel, 
as he did frequently with his 3'oungest sister, beside the 
beds of the sick and dying, than to have had the largest 
churches in his native country, thronged with multi- 
tudes attentive to hear him : he was of the spirit of 
that Redeemer, who sought to be hid whilst he^went 
about doing good. 

His habits of reading and prayer, and particularly 
those of divine meditation, were in no degree relaxed 
duringhis visit, and the less so, because he acknowledged 
that " he felt an increased difficulty of living in com- 
munion with God, where so many remembered him a 
different character." The solitude of the spot where 
he resided was happily fitted for contemplation : — ** The 
scene," he wrote, in a letter to a friend from Lamorran, 
** is such as is frequently to be met with in this part of 
Cornwall. Celow the hoitse is an arm of the sea, flow- 
ing between the hills, which are covered with wood. 
By the side of this water I walk in general in the even- 
ing, out of the reach of all sound but the rippling of the 
waves and the whistling of the curlew." In these pen- 
sive and solitary walks, the great sacrifices he was 
about to make, could not but force themselves frequently 



70 ^ VISITS CORNWALL. 

upon his mind, and raise the silent and involuntary sigh ; 
but we may be well assured, that " in the multitude of 
the thoughts which he had in his heart, God's comforts 
refreshed his soul." 

At length, after having withstood in Cornwall, as 
well as at Cambridge, the argum<3nts of those who 
"at all events would have detained him in England" — 
arguments of which he confesses that " some were not 
without weight" — he prepared to leave that part of his 
native country which was peculiarly dear to his feeling 
and affectionate heart. 

The separations of Christians from each other, in this 
world of mutability, afflictivre as they ever must be, have 
their peculiar alleviations : they know that Christ *' fills 
all things;" — and they have the blissful expectation of 
an endless re-union in that world of glory whither they 
are hastening. 

Mr. Martyn, with respect to several from whom 
he was now to part, could fully indulge in these anima- 
ted anticipations: but he could not as it respected all. 
The following is a mournful record of a final interview, 
overclouded by the gloom of an almost hopeless sorrow. 
ii^^l rode with me part of the way, but kept the con- 
versation on general subjects. If I brought him by 
force to religion, he spoke with the most astonishing 
apathy on the subject. His cold, deliberate superiority 
to every thing but argument, convinced me not merely 
that he was not only fully convinced, as he said, but 
that he was rooted in infidelity. Nothing remained for 
me but to pray for him. Though he parted from me 
probably to see me no more, he said nothing that could 
betray the existence of any passions in him. O cursed 
infidelity, that freezes the heart's blood here, as well as 
destroys the soul hereafter! T could only adore the so- 
vereign grace of God, which distinguished me from him, 
though every thing was alike in us. We have been 
intimate from our infancy ; and have had the same plans 
and pursuits, and nearly the sam« condition: but the 



VISITS CORNWALL. 71 

one is taken and the other is left. I, through mercy, 
find my only joy and delight in the knowledge of Christ; 
and he in denying the truth of religion altogether." 

By another farewell which he has also depicted, he 
could not be otherwise than very deeply affected : but 
the sorrow was of a character very dissimilar to the last. 

" Rode before E , with L , to an old man five 

miles off*. Our conversation was such as becometh 
saints, but it was too pleasant for me. I sighed at the 
thought of losing their company. When we arrived, 
the old man was out, but his sister, a blind woman of 
seventy, was confined to her bed, without any comfort- 
able hope. L and myself said every thing w^e could 

to cheer her, and then I prayed. When the old man 
arrived, we formed a little circle before the door, under 
the trees, and he conversed with his young hearers con- 
cerning the things of God. I then read Psalm Ixxxiv. 
Our ride home was delightful, our hearts being all de- 
voutly disposed; only mine was unhapp}^ Parted 

with L for ever in this life, with a sort of uncertain 

pain which I knew would increase to greater violence." 

These forebodings were but too soon realized. On 
the evening of that day, and for many succeeding days, 
his mental agony was extreme; — yet he could speak to 
God, as one who knew the great conflict within him : 
he was convinced, that as God, willed his happiness, he 
was providing for it eventually by that bitter separation: 
he resolved through grace to be his, though it should be 
through much tribulation : he experienced sweetly and 
solemnly the excellence of serving him faithfully, and 
of following Christ and his Apostles : he meditated with 
great joy on the end of this world, and enjoyed the 
thought of walking, as he now does, with her from 
whom he was then removed, in the realms of glory. 

But Mr. Martyn had not filled up the measure of his 
sufferings, having not yet bid adieu to his sisters 
With the eldest he spent one melancholy evening in 
exhorting her for the last time, and endeavouring to com- 



7'i VISITS CORNWALL. 

fort het; and on the succeeding day he took leave of the 
youngest: " they parted as if to meet no more," and 
overwhelmed with inexpressible grief, could find no 
consolation but in mutually commending each other to 
the grace of God in prayer. 

Thus turning his back, like Abraham of old, on his 
kindred and his country, and looking for that city which 
hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God — Mr, 
Martyn departed from C ornwall . ~ ■:^^'^:^' 

At Plymouth, whither he proceeded, he passed a sa- 
bath in a heavenly serenity of spirit, and in the full ex- 
ercise of that faith which is ' the substance ot *hings 
hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.' Thex3 he 
preached twice; on Dan. v. 23, 23 : — ' and thou, his son, 
O Belshazzar, hast not humbled thy heart, though thou 
knewest all this : but hast lifted up thyself against the 
Lord of heaven ; and they have brought the vessels of 
his house before thee, and thou, and thy lords, thy 
wives, and thy concubines, have drunk wine in them : 
and thou hast praised the gods of silver and gold, of 
brass, iron, wood, and stone, which see not, nor hear, 
nor know: and the God in whose hand thy breath is, 
and whose are all thy ways, hast thou not glorified:' 
and on Rev. xxii. 17 — ' And the spirit and the bride 
say, Come : And let him that heareth say. Come. And 
let him that is athirst come : and whosover will, let 
him take the water of life freely.'-^" His soul long- 
ed," he said, "for the eternal world and he could see 
nothing on earth for which he would^wish to live an- 
other hour." At this place an incident occurred indi- 
cative as well of his extraordinary humility, as of that 
esrtreme temerity of judgment, in which those, who . 
make aloud, though in the main, a genuine profession 
of religion, are too apt to indulge. Having expounded 
the Scriptures, and prayed with many who assembled 
to listen to his parting words, he discovered that there 
were some present who ventured to express a doubt of 
the reality of his religion. One person in particular 



VISITS CORNWALL. 73 

openly avowed his apprehensions concerning him ; — so 
that his heart was wounded: yet, observed this meek 
and lowly man of God, " I was thankful to God for ad- 
monishing- me, and my gratitude to the man was, I 
think, unfeigned." Such was his recorded comment 
at the time; — and it is noted afterwards in his journal, 
that this very person was especially remembered by 
him in his prayers. 

From Plymouth, where his sorrow was painfully re- 
newed, by being separated from a family nearly related 
and greatly endeared to him, he proceeded to London; 
during which journey he sought, according to his settled 
custom, to render his conversation profitable to his fel- 
low-travellers : and in one instance on this occasion, 
his attempts were not, it may be hoped, unattended 
with success. He had for his companion a young 
French officer on his parole ; — a Protestant, who had 
been accustomed, he found, to attend to morning and 
-evening prayer, and to read his Bible, which he had un- 
fortunately lost when he was taken prisoner. But his 
views of the gospel appearing to Mr. Martyn very defec- 
tive, he explained to him "his state by nature; his 
condemnation by the law; the necessity of regenera- 
tion: and of free salvation by Christ; and the promise 
of the Spirit." The young man paid much attention to 
these admonitions, and expressed great affection for his 
adviser; who afterwards presented him with a French 
Testament and corresponded with him on those impor- 
tant topics which he had set before him. 

Change of place and circumstances did not prevent 
Mr. Martyn from communing with that Lord and Sa- 
viour, who is everywhere, and who was with him 
withersoever he went. On this journey, when leaving 
Bath early in the morning, " he found his soul ascend- 
ing to God with divine sweetness. Nothing seemed 
desirable but to glorify Him: all creatures were as no- 
thing." Towards the evening, as they drew near Lon- 
don, he was delightfully engaged in meditation on the 
G 



ii HIS RETtTRN. 

latter part of the second chapter of the Epistle to tK<^ 
Ephesians, " contemplating the building as it was ris- 
ing, and as it" would be when finished." " O the trans- 
cendent glory," said he, " of this temple of souls, live- 
ly stones, perfect in all its parts, the purchase and the 
work of God." 

On the 18th of September, we find Mr. Martyn again 
quietly settled at Cambridge — from whence his young- 
est sister received a letter from him, of which the fol- 
lowing is an extract; and so excellent, surely, is the 
spirit which pervades it, that tears of thankfulness for 
possessing such a brother, must have mingled them- 
selves with those which she could not but shed abun- 
dantly on account of his departure. 

"We should consider it as a sign for good, my 

dearest S , when the Lord reveals to us the almost 

desperate corruption of our hearts. For, if he causes 
us to groan under it, as an insupportable burden, he 
will, we may hope, in his own time, give us deliverance. 
The pride which I see dwelling in my own heart, 
producing there the most obstinate hardness, I can 
truly say my soul abhors. I see it to be unreasonable, 
I feel it to be tormenting. When I sometimes offer up 
supplications, with strong crying to God, to bring 
down my spirit into the dust, I endeavour calmly to 
contemplate the infinite majesty of the most high God, 
and my own meanness and wickedness. Or else I 
quietly tell the Lord, who knows the heart, that 1 
would give him all the glory of every thing if I could. 
But the rdost effectual way I have ever found, is to 
lead away my thoughts from myself and my own con- 
cerns, by praying for all my friends; for the Church, 
the world, the nation ; and, especially by beseeching, 
that God would glorify his own great name, by con- 
verting all nations to the obedience of faith; — also by 
praying that he would put more abundant honour on 
those Christians whom he seems to have honoured 
especially, and whom we see to be manifestly our su- 



TO CAMBRIDGE. 75 

periors. This is at least a positive act of humility — 
and it is certain that not only will a good principal pror 
duce a good act, but the act will increase the principle. 
But eyen after doing all this, there wall often arise a 
certain self-complacency which has need to be check- 
ed; and in conversation with Christian friends, we 
should be careful, I think, how self is introduced. 
Unless we think that good will be done, self should 
be kept in the back ground and mortified. We arp 
bound to be servants of all, ministering to their plea? 
sure as far as will be to their profit. We are to 'look 
not at our own things, but at the things of others.' 

Be assured, my dear S that, night and day, making 

mention of you in my prayers, I desire of God to give 
you to see the depth of pride and iniquity in your heart, 
yet not to be discouraged at the sight of it; that you 
may perceive yourself deserving to be cast out with 
abhorrence from God's presence ; and then may walk 
in continual poverty of spirit, and the simplicity of a 
little child. Pray, too, that I may know something of 
humility. Blessed grace ! how it smooths the furrow^ 
of care, and gilds the dark paths of life ! It will make 
us kind, tender-hearted, affable, and enable us to do 
more for God and the gospel than the most fervent zeal 
without it. 

*' I am here without a companion; — at first thq 
change from the agreeable society in Cornwall, as 
also from that which I enjoyed at Plymouth, was very 
irksome; — but it is good for me !" 

His journal at this period contains many observations 
accordant with the last sentence in this letter : his 
mind naturally often recurred with fond and mournful 
recollections to Cornwall. But he endeavoured to 
check such thoughts, as savouring " too much of earth- 
liness and discontent!" — knowing that " he ought to 
be happy, wherever God had placed him ;" and " being 
eure that the exchange he was soon to make, of college 



76 MINISTERIAL OCCUPATIONS'. 

for a stormy ocean, and the burning plains of India^ 
would not be very pleasant to the flesh." 

The happiness Mr. Marty n enjoyed in prosecuting^ 
his ministerial vocation, received at this time a vron- 
derful increase : whilst suffering the will of God with 
the meek resignation of faith, he was enable to do it 
with all the delightful fervency of love. "Blessed be 
God," he found reason to say, with exceeding joy and 
gratitude, " / feel myself to he his minister. This 
thought, which I can hardly describe, came, in the 
morning, after reading Brainerd. I wish for no service 
but the service of God; — to labour for souls on earth, 
and to do his will in heaven." — As far as the external 
duties of his ofRce were concerned, only this variation 
occurred; — he became extremely diligent in the hum- 
ble, but most important work of catechising children ; 
giving sometimes a great part of his evenings to the 
task, and leaving the society he most valued for the 
sake of it. He determined likewise upon preaching 
more frequently extempore; — (for he had already at 
times adopted the practice,) partly from thinking it 
upon the whole more profitable to himself, as well as to 
the congregation; and partly from the desire of devo- 
ting the time spent in writing sermons to other pur- 
poses. He by no means, however, renounced these 
compositions. On the contrary, he enjoined it upon 
himself as a rule, never to pass a week without writing 
a sermon. 

In visiting his flock, and thus ' preaching from house 
to house,' Mr. Martyn's perseverance kept pace with 
the hightened pleasure and satisfaction he experienced 
in his divine calling: happy, however, as he was, in 
this work of labour and love, the sympathies of his heart 
were painfully and powerfully called forth by many a 
scene of extreme misery, and his holy sensibilities were 
yet more acutely excited by the vice and profligacy he 
perpetually witnessed. The following are some of 
several scenes of wretchedness with which he was con^ 



MINISTERIAL OCCUPATIONS. 77 

versant : — " In prayer I found my soul composed to a 
blessed and serious view of eternity. Visited the hos- 
pital, and read the 11th chapter of John there, with a 
poor man, in whose room at the workhouse I was struck 
with the misery that presented itself. He was lying 
in his clothes and hat, upon the bed, dying ; his wife 
was cleaning the room as if nothing was the matter ; 
and on the threshold v/as the daughter, about thirty 
years old, who had been delirious thirteen years. Her 
mother said, that the poor creature sometimes talked of 
religion : so I asked her, several times, before I could 
arrest her attention, who came into the w^orld to save 
sinners ] After several wild looks, she hastily answered 
*' Christ," and then talked on as before. The dying 
man was almost insensible to any thing I could say. 
He had formerly been a respectable innkeeper in the 
town ; but the extravagance of a son brought him to 
poverty, and his daughter, who foresaw it, to insanity." 
— '*Inthe afternoon, I enjoyed solmn thoughts in pra)''er, 
and visited several people ; amongst them one poor peni- 
tent, with whom I had prayed the day before. The 
desires she expressed amidst her tears were, that God 
would change her heart, and forgive her, and take her 
to his mercy. If it was his will, she wished to leave 
this world. But what, if she should live ? I asked her : 
she said, she could not say she should not sin, as she 
was constantly liable ; but rather than return to her for- 
mer ways, she would be cut in pieces. I was much 
affected with pity, and preached the gospel of peace 
with great delight to her." At another time, when a 
friend had given him a lamentable account of the gross 
misconduct of a woman who had made a profession of 
religion, " the consideration," he remarked, " quite 
swallowed up my other thoughts, and brought me to a 
tender grief and godly sorrow. I went to church, ru- 
minating on it, and could almost say, ' rivers of water 
run down mine eyes, because men keep not thy law. O 
that I could feel more sensibly the dishonour done to God 
o2 



78 MINISTERIAL OCCUPATIONS. 

and to his Christ, and to his gospel ; and the ruin she is 
bringing on her own soul." And, on hearing, the same 
day, of the death of one whom hejiad remembered in in- 
nocence, and in the bloom of health and beauty ; and 
who died after a very short career of vice, the account 
■was too much for him, " My heart," said he, " was ready 
to burst. When I thought of the man who had seduced 
her ; and then of many in the university, who had behaved 
with extraordinary effrontery at church, my soul groan- 
ed within me. O my God, it is enough; hasten, 

hasten the day when I shall leave the w^orld to come 
to Thee, when I shall no more be vexed, and astonish- 
ed, and pained, at the universal wickedness of this lost 
earth. But here would I abide my time ; and spend 
and be spent for the salvation of any poor soul ; and 
lie down at the feet of sinners, and beseech them not 
to plunge into an eternity of torment." 

How 'honourable' and what a delight the Sabbath 
was to Mr. Martyn, we have already seen ; it might be 
called with him "a kind of transfiguration-day, when 
his garments shone with peculiar lustre." Can it be 
deemed irrelevant, then, to advert again to the state of 
his mind as delineated by himself, during some of those 
sacred seasons at this period 1 

Sept. 30. — ''My mind, this morning, easily ascended 
to God, in peaceful solemnity. I succeeded in finding 
access to God and being alone with him. Could I but 
enjoy this life of faith more steadly, how much should 

1 grow in grace,' and be renewed in the spirit of my 
mind. At such seasons of fellowship with the father 
and his son Jesus Christ, when the world, and self, 
and eternity, are nearly in their right places, not only 
are my views of duty clear and comprehensive, but the 
proper motives have a more constraining influence." 

Oct, 28. — " This has been in general a happy day. 
In the morning, through grace, I was enabled by prayer 
to maintain a calm recollection of myself — and what 
was better, of the presence of my dear Redeemer. 



AT CAMBRIDGE. 79 

From the church I walked to our garden, where I was 
above an hour, I trust with Christ, speaking to him, 
chiefly of my future life in his service. I determined 
on entire devotedness, though with trembling ; for the 
flesh dreads crucifixion. But should I fear pain, when 
Christ was so agonized for me 1 No — come what will, 
I am determined through God, to be a fellow-worker 
with Christ. I recollected with comfort, that I was 
speaking to the great Creator, who can make such a 
poor weak worm as myself ' more than conqueror.' At 
church I found by the attention of the people, that the 
fervour of my spirit yesterday had been conveyed in- 
to my sermon. I came to my rooms, rejoicing to be 
alone again, and to hold communion with God." 

Dec. 9. — " This has been in general a sweet and 
blessed day^a foretaste of my eternal sabbath. Preach- 
ed on the third commandment : in the afternoon on the 
tenth. Rode back to Cambridge, feeling quite willing 
to go any where or suffer any thing for God. Preached 
in Trinity church, onEzek. xxxiii. 11. 'Say unto them 
— As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in 
the death of the wicked : but that the wicked turn from 
his way and live ; turn ye, turn ye from your evil 
w^ays ; for why will ye die, O house of Israel V It was 
pleasant to me to think of being alone again with 
God." 

The year 1804 closed with Mr. Martyn's being a third 
time selected as one of the examiners in St. John's. In 
fulfilling which office, he speaks of his " soul drawing 
near to God, whilst in the hall ; and of a sacred impres- 
sion being upon his mind during the examination." — 
" Several of the poetical images in Virgil," in which he 
had been examining, " especially those taken from na- 
ture, together with the sight of the moon rising over 
the venerable wall and sending its light through the 
painted glass, turned away his thoughts from present 
things, and raised them to God. His soul was stirred 
up to renewed resolutions to live a life of entire inde- 



80 REFLECTIONS. 

pendence of earthly comforts ; though he felt that the 
flesh was very weak." 

The last day of the year found him " rejoicing at the 
lapse of time, but sorrowing at his unprofitableness." 
" So closes," he remarks, " the easy part of my life; 
enriched by every earthly comfort, and caressed by 
friends, I may scarcely be said to have experienced 
trouble; but now, farewell ease, if I might presume to 
conjecture. O Lord, into thy hands I commit my spirit. 
Thou hast redeemed me, thou God of truth, may I be 
saved by thy grace, and be sanctified to do thy will, 
now, and to all eternity, through Jesus Christ." His re- 
flections on the following day, the first of that year, 
which was his last in England, carry with them a pecu- 
liar interest, as well from their intrinsic excellence, as 
from the circumstances under which they were indited. 

Jan. 1, 1805. — " Hitherto hath the Lord helped me. 
It is now about five years since God stopped me in the 
career of worldliness, and turned me from the paths of 
sin : — three years and a half since I turned to the Lord 
with all my heart : and a little more than two years 
since he enabled me to devote myself to his service as 
a missionary. My progress of late has become slower 
than it had been : yet I can truly say, that in the course 
of this time, every successive year, every successive 
week, has been happier than the former. From many 
dangerous snares hath the Lord preserved me: in spite 
of all my inward rebellion, he hath carried on his work 
in my heart; and in spite of all my unbelieving fears 
he hath given me a hope full of immortality ; — ' he hath 
set my foot on a rock, and established my goings, and 
hath put a new song in my mouth, even praises to my 
God.' It is the beginning of a critical year to me: yet 
I feel little apprehension. The same grace and long- 
suffering, the same wisdom and power, that have 
brought me so far, will bring me on, though it be 
through fire and water, to a goodly heritage. I see nor 
business in life but the work of Christ, neither do I de- 



IS ADMITTED TO PRIEST's ORDERS. 81 

sire any employment to all eternity but his service. 
I am a sinner saved by g-race. Every day's experience 
convinces me of this truth. My daily sins and constant 
corruption, leave me no hope but that w^hich is founded 
on God's mercy in Christ. His spirit, I trust, is im- 
parted, and renewing my nature; as I desire much, 
though I have attained but little. Now to God the 
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, would I solemnly renew 
my self-dedication, to be his servant for ever." 

Towards the end of January, a sudden summons to 
leave England in ten days caused some perturbation in 
Mr. Martyn's spirits. Short, hbwever, as the notice 
was, he would instantly have complied with it, had he 
been in priest's orders, which legally he could not be 
till the 18th of February, when he completed his twenty 
fourth year. 

The solemn and most impressive rite of admission to 
the functions and privileges of a Presbyter of the 
Church of England, was administered to him, who had 
well " performed the office of a deacon," at St. James' 
Chapel, London, in the month of March: after which 
he received the degree of Bachelor of Divinity, conferred 
upon him by mandate from the University; when no- 
thing remained to detain him any longer at Cambridge. 

At the thoughts of his departure, he confesses that 
the flesh betrayed its weakness, but he did not regret 
having resigned the world; life he knew was but a 
short journey — a little day; and then, if faithful unto 
death, his gracious reward would begin. Happily for 
him, such was the divine goodness and mercy, that he 
was, at this moment, more than ever persuaded of his 
being truly called of God to preach the gospel to the 
heathen. "I rejoice to say, (he wrote to his youngest 
sister,) that I never had so clear a conviction of my call 
as at present — as far as respects the inward impression. 
Never did I see so much the exceeding excellency, and 
glory, and sweetness of the work, nor had so much the 
favourable testimony of my own conscience, nor per- 



83 LEAVES CAMBRIDGE. 

ceived so plainly the smile of God. I am constrained 
to say — what am I, or what is my father's house, that 
I should be made willing; — what am I that I should 
be so happy, so honoured'?" In his Journal, likewise, 
he expresses himself to the same effect: "I felt more 
persuaded of my call than ever; there was scarcely the 
shadow of a doubt left; — rejoice, O my soul — thou 
shalt be the servant of God in this life, and in the next, 
for all the boundless ages of eternity. " 

A remarkable spirit of supplication, likewise, was in 
this hour of need poured out upon him ; and the sure 
word of prophecy, predicting the glory of the latter 
times was as the dawning of the day and the rising 
of the day-star in his heart. " I could not," he re- 
marks, " help reflecting on the almost supernatujal 
fervour and deep devotion which came upon me, whilst 
I declared that I had rightfully no other business each 
day but to do God's work as a servant, constantly 
regarding his pleasure." " My thoughts were full on 
"Vvhat God would do for his own glory, in the conversion 
of multitudes to himself in the latter day. I did not 
wish to think about myself in any respect, but found it 
a precious privilege to stand by, a silent admirer of 
God's doings." 

To be removed forever from many dear friends, and 
from a congregation who " esteemed him very highly 
in love for his work's sake," would have greatly afl^ict- 
ed one of far less affection than that which animated 
the breast of Mr. Marty n. As for him, his sufFerigns 
on this occasion were most severe. Those of his flock, 
likewise, were no less so; they would willingly have 
renewed the touching scene once beheld at Miletus, 
" sorrowing as they did for the words that he spake, that 
they should see his face no more." One old man — to 
adduce no other instance of their undissembled regard 
and poignant regret — could not refrain from coming 
to him, that he might commend him solemnly to God 
In prayer. And when he delivered his farewell dis- 



LEAVES CAMBRIDGE. 



8% 



Course in Trinity Church, on these words, (2 Sam. vii. 
27, 29,) ' For thou, O Lord of Hosts, God of Israel, 
hast revealed to thy servant, saying, I will build thee 
an house; therefore hath thy servant found in his heart 
to pray this prayer unto thee. And now, O Lord God, 
thou art that God, and thy words be true, and thou hast 
promised this goodness unto thy servant: therefore 
now let it please thee to bless the house of thy servant, 
that it may continue for ever before thee; for thou, O 
Lord God, hast spoken it: and with thy blessing let 
the house of thy servant be blessed for ever;' — the 
whole assembly was dissolved in grief; — thus testi- 
fying by their tears, that their attachment to him was 
equalled only by their admiration of his character. 

On the 3rd of April, the day after he had preached 
his valedictory sermon, Mr. Martyn quitted for ever the 
place which had been "the dear abode of his youth" 
— in which he had obtained no moderate portion of 
honour and reputation — and in which, had he deemed it 
right to remain, he might have acquired that ample 
share of emolument, which talents such as his never 
fail to secure. At such a moment he would have been 
glad to have been left to uninterrupted meditation; but 
many young students happened to accompany him oii 
his journey, and he thought it his duty to enter into re- 
ligious conversasion with them for their benefit. — "At 
intervals, however," said he, "I meditated and prayed 
— the coldness and ingratitude of my wicked heart made 
me feel loathsome to myself; and 1 longed but for one 
thing, which was, to be delivered from all my ini- 
quity." 

The day after his arrival in London, other natural 
feelings were called into exercise; feelings which it 
is the design of the gospel to moderate but not to sup- 
press. Some hymns sung in the evening-worship of 
the family into which he was most hospitably received, 
recalling Cambridge to his remembrance, affected -Jiim 
even to tears ; and as he dwelt with melancholy plea- 



84 LEAVES CAMBRIDGE FOR LONDON. 

sure on its past delights, all his dear Christian friends 
in it seemed doubly interesting. 

During the two months Mr. Martyn was resident in 
London, he considered that he could not better employ 
his time, than by devoting it to the attainment of the 
Hindostanee language ; and having the advantage of 
being assisted by a gentleman eminently competent to 
direct him,* he was incessant in his endeavours to ob- 
tain that necessary qualification for an Indian Missiona- 
ry. In order, also, that he might correct some defects in 
his speech, he at the same time deemed it incumbent on 
him to attend several lectures on pronunciation, for no- 
thing did he disdain, which, tending to make his minis- 
try more acceptable, might conduce to the glory of God. 
In the delivery of the great message committed to him 
as an ambassador of Christ, he was at this time by no 
means remiss. During the short period of his abode in 
London, he often preached ; occupying the pulpit prin- 
cipally at St. John's Chapel, Bedford Row, then under 
the care of the late Rev. Richard Cecil, from whose 
holy example and faithful advice Mr. Martyn conceived 
himself to have derived the most substantial and last- 
ing benefit. Nor was he without another high gratifica- 
tion and privilege — that of being introduced to the aged 
and venerable Mr. Newton, who, expecting soon to be 
'gathered to his people,' rejoiced to give this young 
minister, about to proceed on his sublime embassy of 
love, his paternal counsel and benediction. 

An intercourse with such men as Mr. Newton and Mr. 
Cecil, was more than a compensation to Mr. Martyn for 
his detention in London, and for the uneasiness of that 
period of uncertainty and delay, which is almost as op- 
pressive to the spirit as the moment of actual departure. 
But if he received unmingled satisfaction and abiding 
profit from the conversation he enjoyed wuth those emi- 
nent Christians, there were others with whom he con- 

*Mr. Gilchrist. 



LEAVES CAMBRIDGE FOR LONDON. 65 

ferred, who, ' seeming to be somewhat in conference, 
added nothing to him,' but, on the contrary, occasioned 
him no small measure of disquietude. Once, indeed, 
these very persons were in the habit of manifesting 
great cordiality towards him : but now they began to 
slight him, and in his presence were continually rais- 
ing disparaging comparisons between him and certain 
preachers, whose theological sentiments, if not erro- 
neous, were at least far too exclusive ; and whose strain 
of doctrine, in Mr. Martyn's judgment, was more calcu- 
lated to produce ill-grbunded confidence, than righteous- 
ness and true holiness. Interviews of this kind he en- 
dured rather than enjoyed: they are to be ranked amongst 
his trials, and not placed on the side of his comforts. 

The subject of his union, likewise, with that excel- 
lent person, (lately consigned to her grave,) on whom 
his affections were so unalterably fixed, became at this 
time a matter of consideration and discussion amongst 
some of his more intimate friends; and their difference 
of opinion respecting the propriety of the measure, 
should it ever be practicable, caused no small tumult 
and angush in his heart. 

On the other hand, there were two events, the pros* 
pect of which was of the most cheering complexion; — 
the one, the satisfactory marriage of his youngest sis- 
ter — the other, a hope of being soon followed to India 
by two of his friends, who, strengthened if not exci- 
ted by his example, declared their willingness to go 
forth and labour with him in that distant vineyard. 

But as it may administer much profitable as well as 
encouraging matter for reflection, to those w^ho may 
hereafter tread in the footsteps of Mr. Martyn, his jour- 
nal shall speak for him at some length during the inter- 
val between his quitting Cambridge and preparing to 
sail from England. 

April 10. — " Walked out to buy books, and strove to 
be diligent in thinking of my subject.* When I got 

* The subject he had chosen in the morning for meditation. 

n 



86 PREPARES 1*0 

into the spirit of it, Christ appeared at times inexpres- 
sibly precious to me." 

April 14. — Sunday. " I felt very unconcerned about 
men's opinions both"" before and after sermon. Before 
it, I could solemnly appeal to God, and found comfort 
and pleasure in doing so — that I desired his glory 
alone — that I detested the thought of seeking my own 
praise, or taking pleasure in hearing it. The rest of the 
evening I continued in a very ardent frame ; but, in pri- 
vate, I was taught by former experience to labour after 
a calm and sober devotedness to God, and that my 
fervour might shew itself in a steady course of action. 
My soul felt growing in holiness nigh unto the blessed 
God, with my understanding, will and affection turned 
towards him. Surely many of the children of God 
h^ve been praying for me to-day. May the Lord return 
their prayers tenfold into their own bosoms." 

April 15. — " O may God confirm my feeble resolu- 
tions ! What have I to do but to labour, and pray, and 
fast, and watch, for the salvation of my own soul, and 
those of the heathen world. Ten thousand times more 
than ever do I feel devoted to that precious w#rk. O 
gladly shall this base blood be shed, every drop of it if 
India can be benefited in one of her children ; — if but 
one of those children of God Almighty might be brought 
home to his duty." 

April 16. — ''How careful should I and all be, in our 
ministry, not to break the bruised xeed ! Alas ! do I 
think that a schoolboy, a raw academic, should be likely 
to lead the hearts of men? — what a knowledge of men, 
and acquaintance with the Scriptures, what communion 
with God, and study of m}^ own heart, ought to prepare 
me for the awful work of a messenger from God on the 
business of the soul." 

April 22. — ''I do not wish for any heaven upon earth 
besides that of preaching the precious Gospel of Jesus 
Christ to immortal souls. May these weak desires in- 
crease and strengthen w^ith every difficulty," 



LEAVE ENGLAND. 87 

April 27. — " My constant unprofitableness seemed to 
bar my approach to God. But I considered that for all 
that was past, the blood of Christ would atone; and 
that for the future, God would that moment give me 
grace to perform my duty." 

May 7. — " Went in the evening to hear . He was 

on the same subject as usual, but without variety. I 
confess I was dissatisfied ; not only because I could fix 
on nothing that could edify me, but because I could not 
but think that there was nothing to offend or detect car-, 
nal professors." 

May 9. — " my soul, when wilt thou live consistent- 
ly? When shall I walk steadily with God] When 
shall I hold heaven constantly in view ] How time 
glides away — how is death approaching — how soon 
must I give up my account — how are souls perishing — 
how does their blood call out to us to labour, and watch, 
and pray for them that remain." 

May 16. — "I went down with Captain M to 

Deptford : passing through an Inn which was close to 
the water-side, I came at once, to my great surprise, 
close to the Indiaman before I was aware of it. The 
sudden sight of the water and of the ship affected me 
almost to tears. My emotions were mixed — partly of 
joy and partly of trembling apprehensions of my being 
now so soon to go away." 

Mayl8. — " Happening to look over some of my fare- 
well sermons at Cambridge, I was affected to tears." 

May 22. — " Heard Mr. Crowther preach. At first I 
could not enter into those humiliating views which I 
knew I ought to have : but by stirring up myself to 
attend, and to mix faith with what he said, and by 
turning every sentence into a petition, I got great good 
in my soul." 

May 24. — *' I felt more than I ever had done, the 
shame attending poverty ; nothing but the remembrance 
that I was not to blame, supported me : whatever comes 
to me in the way of providence is and must be for my 



88 PREPARES TO 

good. Dined at , where I could plainly see I wag 

scarcely a welcome guest : the neglect of me was too 
plain to be unnoticed. The weakness of my human 
nature would have expressed itself, had I not looked up 
to God and prayed for a sight of my desert of the scorn. 
of men. The conversation amongst these high profes- 
sors was of course about -. One said to me, ^his ser- 
mons are not fine and eloquent, but spiritual;'^ — alluding 
to the first of mine which he had heard." 

May 30. — "Read Brainerd. I feel my heart knit to 
this dear man, and really rejoice to think of meeting him 
in heaven." 

June 1. — '' Memory has been at work to unnerve my 
soul : but reason, and honour, and love to Christ and 
souls, shall prevail. • Amen. God help me." 

June 2. — Whitsunday. ''My dear Redeeme ris a 
fountain of life to my soul. With resignation and peace 
can I look forward to a life of labour and entire seclu- 
sion from earthly comforts, while Jesus thus stands 
near me, changing me into his own image." 

June 6. — " God's interference in supporting me 
continually, appears to me like a miracle." 

June 7. — " 1 have not felt such heart-rending pain 

since I parted with L in Cornwall. But the Lord 

brought me to consider the folly and wickedness of all 
this. I could not help saying — Go, Hindoos — go on 
in your misery — let Satan still reign over you : for he 
that was appointed to labour among you, is consulting 
his ease. — No, thought I — earth and Tiell shall never 
keep me back from my work. I am cast down, but 
not destroyed. I began to consider why I was so 
uneasy — ' Cast thy care upon him, for he careth for 
you.' ' In every thing by prayer and supplication, with 
thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to 
God ;' — these promises were sweetly fulfilled before 
long, to me." 

June 8. — " My heart was sometimes ready to break 
with agony. At other times, I was visited by a few 



LEAVE ENGLAND. 89 

moments of sublime and enraptured joy. Such is the 
conflict. Why have my friends mentioned this subject ? 
It has torn open old wounds, and I am again bleeding." 

June 13. — " Had I a more tender sense of mercy, I 
should have delighted to write on the subject I had 
chosen. Yet it is very sweet to be desiring such a 
state. I would wish, like Mary, to lie weeping at the 
feet of Jesus." 

June 15. — " Shed tears to-night at the thoughts of my 
departure. I thought of the roaring seas, which would 
soon be rolling between me and all that is dear to me 
upon earth. 

June 23.—" The grief of the Miss C s, at the de- 
parture of their brother for India, called fourth some of 
my natural feelings. Had I been going from neces- 
sity, it would almost break my heart. But I go, from 
choice, into a part of the vineyard where my dearest 
friend will be present. On the subject of the mission, 
I seemed assisted to unfold my heart unto the Lord, 
and to pray for his mighty protection in the fiery trial 
which is about to try me." 

June 25. — " I heard something about Swartz to-day 
which struck me much; — his simple mode of living." 

June 28. — " Was much struck and affected with the 
words of a Hottentot woman, quoted in Mr. Biddulph's 
sermon. How happy and honoured am I in being suf- 
fered to be a Missionary." 

July 4. — " Mr. Cecil shewed me a letter in Swartz's 
own hand-writing.* Its contents were of a very expe- 
rimental nature — applicable to my case. The life of 
faith in Jesus is what I want. My soul might almost 
burst with astonishment at its own wickedness! but, 

* It IS in vain to wish that very lai'ge extracts from Mr. Swartz 's 
Correspondence with the Society for Promoting Christian Knowr- 
ledge were published : much oi which would doubtless be found 
** applicable to the case" of Christians in general, and of Mi- 
nisters and Missioparies in particular. It is said that the whole 
is either lost or burnt. 



90 LEAVES LONDON. 

at the same time, trusting to mercy, risa and go, and 
try to make men happy. The Lord go with me ! Let 
my right hand forget her cunning, if I remember not 
Jerusalem above my chief joy." 

After delivering a sermon to the congregation at St. 
John's, upon Acts xx. 33 ; " And now, brethren, I com- 
mend you to God, and to the word of his grace, which 
is able to build you up, and to give you an inheritance 
among all them that are sanctified" — on the 8th of July, 
Mr. Martyn left London for Portsmouth : and such was 
the acuteness of his feelings during this journey, that he 
fainted and fell into a convulsion fit, at the inn at which 
he slept on the road; a painful intimation to those 
friends who were with him, of the poignancy of that 
grief which he endeavoured as much as possible to re- 
press and conceal. The next morning, however, he 
was suflSlciently recovered to proceed, and was much 
refreshed in his spirit at the sight of many of his breth- 
ren, at Portsmouth, who had come (several from a con- 
siderable distance) that they might affectionately accom- 
pany him to the ship. Among these was one whose 
presence aflforded him an unexpected happiness. " To 
be obliged to give up all hopes of your accompanying 
me to Portsmouth," (he had written a short time before 
to Mr. Simeon) " is a greater disappointment than I 
can well describe. Having been led to expect it, I 
seem to experience a painful privation. However, you 
will not now have the pain of observing in your brother 
a conversation and spirit unsuitable to the important 
work on which he is going. Yet this I believe, 
that though I have little aflfection towards heavenly 
things, I have less towards every thing earthly." 
From Mr. Simeon he learnt, to his exceeding comfort, 
that his flock at Cambridge intended, on the day of 
his departure, as far as it could be ascertained, to give 
themselves to fasting and prayer;— =and at his hands he 
received with peculiar gratification, a^ silver compass, 
sent b}' them as a memorial of their unfeigned aflfection ; 



AT PORTSMOUTH. 91 

in which the following letter is expressive of his ac- 
knowledgments: — 

Portsmouth, July 11, 1805. 
" My dearest Brethren, 

" I write in great haste to thank you most affection- 
ately for the token of your love, which our dear bro- 
ther and minister has given me from you. O may my 
God richly recompense you for your great affection ! 
May he reward your prayers for me, by pouring tenfold 
blessings into your own bosoms ! May he bless you 
w4th all spiritual blessings in Christ Jesus ! At the 
command of God, as I believe, I shall, in a few hours, 
embark for those regions where your little present may 
be of use tome, in guiding my way through the track- 
less deserti I pray that the word of God, which is 
your compass, may, through the Spirit, direct your path 
through the wilderness of this world, and bring you in 
safety to the better country above, f beg your prayers, 
and assure you of mine. Remember me sometimes at 
your social meetings and particularly at that which you 
hold on the Sabbath morning. Pray not only for my 
sinful soul — that I may be kept faithful unto death — 
but especially, for the souls of the poor Heathen. 
Whether I live or die, let Christ be magnified by the 
ingathering of multitudes to himself. I have many 
trials awaiting me, and so have you; but that covenant 
of grace in which we are interested, provides for the 
weakest, and secures our everlasting welfare. — Fare- 
well, dear Brethren ! May God long continue to you the 
invaluable labours of your beloved minister; and may 
you, with the blessing of his ministry, grow, day by 
day, in all spirituality and humility of mind; till God 
in his mercy, shall call you, each in his own time, to 
the eternal enjoyment of his glol-y.^' 

The few days Mr. Martyn remained at Portsmouth, 
were spent in conversing with his brethren on the things 
pertaining to the kingdom of God ; and in social suppli- 



93 AT PORTSMOUTH. 

jcation and thanksgiving. His prayer, on the day he 
expected finally to quit the shores of England, will not 
easily be forgotten by those ' who bowed their knees 
together with him to the God and Father of our Lord 
Jesus Christ:' it ascended to the ' lofty One,' from the 
lowest depths of humiliation, and breathed the most en- 
tire devotedness of body, soul, and spirit, to his service. 
His whole demeanour, indeed, could not fail of tender- 
ly affecting, as well as indelibly impressing, their hearts 
and minds. — One of those then present, who little 
thought that th'fe task he now so inadequately attempts 
to execute would ever be assigned him, well remembers 
his own sensations on that most trying and yet trium- 
phant occasion : and how completely every thought 
within him was absorbed in admiration of the astonish- 
ing grace bestowed on his friend, and in bitter regret at 
being deprived of his society. Nor let it be surmised 
that the fondness of friendship has exaggerated the sa- 
.crifices Mr. Ma^tyn was then enduring. A chaplainship 
in the East India Company, to many presents advan- 
tages highly valued and eagerly sought ; — but consider- 
ed as a pecuniary provision, it could have no attractions 
for Mr. Martyn. To him a curacy in Cornwall would 
have been far preferable : and at Cambridge, such was 
his academical fame, that ample emolument was cer- 
tain. In our estimate, too, of his privations, we should 
remember, that whilst motives not to be disparaged 
carried many with him, far from the happy land of their 
nativity — the principles which actuated him were 
purely spiritual. They also had hopes of a return ; 
their eyes might one day sparkle with joy on the shores 
where then they were suffused with sorrow. Mr. 
Martyn had no such anticipations : before him the hori- 
zon was dark around — not a streak of light was visible. 
He went forth to preach the gospel to the heathen, and 
it was his fixed resolution to live and die amongst 
them. When he left England, he left it wholly for 
Christ's sake, and he left it for ever. 



LEAVES PORTSMOUTH — ARRIVES AT FALMOUTH. 93 

On the 17th of July, 1805, the Union East Indiaman, 
which was to convey Mr. Marty n to Calcutta, sailed 
from Portsmouth in company with a large fleet, under 
the command of Captain Byng; and two days afterr 
wards came to an anchor in the port of Falmouth. An 
extract of a letter written from this place to Mr. Simeon, 
feelingly depicts Mr. Martyn's sensations, w^hen, on 
awaking on the morning of the 17th, it rushed upon 
his mind, that his voyage was really commenced : — "It 
was a very painful moment to me when I awoke, on the 
morning after you left us, and found the fleet actually 
sailing down the channel. Though it was what I had 
anxiously been looking forward to so long, yet the con- 
sideration of being parted for ever from my friends, al- 
most overcame me. My feelings were those of a man 
who should suddenly be told that every friend he had 
in the world was dead. It was only by prayer for them 
that I could be comforted ; and this was indeed a refresh- 
ment to my soul, because by meeting them at the throne 
of grace, I seemed to be again in their society." 

The arrival of the fleet at Falmouth was an event 
wholly unforseen by Mr. Martyn, who was somewhat 
agitated " at the singularity of the providence of God, 
in thus leading him once more into the bosom of all 
his friends." " May the Lord," said he, " glorify him- 
self in this and in every other dispensation!" — How 
trying this dispensation was to him, it will not require 
many quotations from his journal to demonstrate. 
From these it will be evident, that delightful as it was 
to him once more to land upon the shores where he had 
sported gaily in his infancy, and meditated divinely in 
maturer age, it would have been far happier for him had 
a storm in the night hurried him past his beloved Corn- 
wall. But God, w4io doeth all things well, manifestly 
intended to strengthen his faith, by putting it to a se- 
vere exercise. 

July 29. "I was much engaged, at intervals, in 
learning the hymn 'The God of Abraham praise;' as 



S4 IS DETAINED 

often as I could use the language of it with any truth, 
my heart was a little at ease. 

* The God of Abraham praise, 
At -whose supreme command 
From earth I rise, and seek the joys 
At his right hand. 

I all on earth forsake, 
Its wisdom, fame, and power; 
And him my only portion make, 
My shield and tower. ' 

"There was something peculiarly solemn and afFect- 
ing to me in this hymn, and particularly at this time. 
The truth of the sentiments I knew well enough. But 
alas ! I felt that the state of mind expressed in it was 
above mine at the time ; and I felt loth to forsake all on 
earth." 

" Not being able to reach the ship, I slept at a little 
public house on the road, where I lay down in the most 
acute mental misery ; and rose the next morning dis- 
turbed and unrefreshed. The morning was beautifully 
serene, but on account of the tempest within, that very 
circumstance was disgusting to me. A dark and stor- 
my day would have been more in unison with my feel- 
ings." 

"I went on board in extreme anguish, and found an 
opportunity in the sloop by which I passed to the ship, 
to CYj, with brokenness of spirit, to the Lord. The 
words, 'Why sayest thou, O Jacob, and speakest, Is- 
rael, My way is hid from the Lord, and my judgment 
is passed over from my God ;' were brought to my mind 
with such force, that I burst into a flood of tears ; 
and felt much relieved in my soul, by the thought that God 
was thus compassionate, and the blessed Lord Jesus 
a merciful and compassionate High Priest, who conde- 
scended to sympathise with me. In the afternoon, 
Jt pleased God to give me a holy and blessed season 
^n prayer, in which my soul recovered much of its 



AT FALMOUTH. 95* 

wonted peace." Thus did God, in answer to prayer, 
in some measure refresh his soul. An attempt, also, 
which he made to comfort another person in the ship 
with him, served to invigorate his own drooping- spirit. 
*' They stood together," as he represents it, " looking 
anxiously at the raging sea, and sighed to think of the 
happy societies of God's people, who (as it was the 
Sabbath day) were then joining in sweet communion 
in public worship. But the topics of conversation 
which Mr. Martyn endeavoured to bring before his dis- 
consolate companion, had a happy re-action on his own 
mind: whilst cheering him he was cheered himself: 
— *' the blessed Spirit of God applied the blood of Jesu3 
to cleanse away his sin, and restore him to comfort:" 
and at night he could commit himself to rest, " tossed, " 
as he expresses it , "by the roaring surge, but composed 
and peaceful with the everlasting arms underneath 
him." 

During his detention for about three weeks at Fal-" 
mouth, he preached several times in the ship, as well 
as on shore : and amongst other texts, he addressed his 
hearers from that most appropriate one, 'Jesus came 
and spake unto them, saying — All power is given unto 
me in heaven and on earth. Go ye, therefore, and teach 
all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, 
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them 
to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded 
you ; and lo ! I am with you alway, even unto the end 
of the world. Amen.' Matt, xxviii. 18, 20. A sermon 
from Mr. Martyn on those words of Scripture was well 
calculated to produce a powerful effect on the minds of 
his audience; for what more striking comment upon the 
passage could there be, than the very circumstance of 
his appearance amongst them, upon his apostolical 
labour of love. 

On the 10th of August, the signal was made for the 
ships to sail, at which time, having been deceived by 
the information communicated to him concerniiior the 



D6 SAILS FROM ENGLAND. 

continuance of the fleet in port, Mr. Martyn was absent 
at the distance of twenty miles in the country. The 
express announcing this mistake, was like a thunder- 
stroke to him: but by making all possible dispatch, 
he contrived to reacli the Union just in time. That 
ship, as if by the appointment of Providence, had 
met with an accident in clearing out of the harbour, 
which impeded her progress, whilst almost all the 
others were under weigh. The commander, as he 
passed, expressed his displeasure at her delay : but Mr. 
Martyn discovered the high and gracious hand of God 
in this event, and "blessed him for having thus saved 
his poor creature from shame and trouble." "So de- 
lusive," to adopt his own reflections, "are schemes of 
pleasure ! At nine in the morning, I was sitting at ease 
with the person dearest to me upon earth, intending to 
go out with her afterwards to see diflierent views : tcr 
visit some persons with her, and preach on the morrow ;' 
four hours only elapsed, and I was under sail fron? 
England." 

The anxiety Mr. Martyn had felt to reach his ship,' 
and the joy he experienced at having eflfected his object,- 
for a time absorbed other and more sorrowful considera- 
tions : but when left a little at leisure, his spirits, as he 
acknowledges, began to sink. "^ He seemed backward^ 
also, to draw near to God ; and though, when he did so, 
he found relief, he was still slow to flee to the refuge of 
his weary soul." 

Unhappily for him, during the wholeofthe 10th, and 
for the greater part of the succeeding day, Cornwall was 
still in sight: and who is there, endued with the sensi- 
bilities of our common nature, but must have been sub- 
jected to the most painful emotions, whilst slowly 
passing for the last time along a coast, where every ob- 
ject which caught the eye — every headland — every 
building — every wood, served to remind him of endear- 
ments that were passed, and of pleasures never to be 
renewed! 



SAILS PROM ENGLAND. 97 

That Apostle, who professed that he was ' ready, not 
to be bound only, but to die at Jerusalem, for the name 
of the Lord Jesus, exclaimed also — " what mean ye to 
weep, and to break my*heart'?" And he, too, when sail- 
ing to Rome, along the ' sea of Gilicia,' may well be 
supposed to have looked mournfully towards the region 
of his nativity, and to have thought with pain on Tarsus. 

But Mr. Martyn's own hand shall portray his feel- 
ings. Sunday, August 11. "I rose dejected, and ex- 
tremely w^eak in body. After simply crying to God for 
mercy and assistance, I preached on Heb. ix. 16: — 
' But now they desire a better country, that is, an hea- 
venly ; wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their 
God, for he hath prepared for them a city.' On repeat- 
ing the text a second time, I could scarcely refrain from 
bursting into tears. For the Mount and St. Hilary 
spire and trees were just discernible by the naked eye 
at the time I began my sermon, by saying "that now 
the shores of England were receding fast from our view, 
and that we had taken a long, and to many of u&, an 
everlasting farewell,' &c. We had made little way 
during the night, and in the morning I was pleased to 
find that we were in Mount's Bay, midway between the 
Land's-end and the Lizard ; and I was often with my 
glass raealling those beloved scenes; till after tea, 
when, on ascending the poop, I found that they had dis- 
appeared : but this did not prevent my praying for all 
on shore. Amidst the extreme gloom of my mind this 
day, I found great pleasure, at seasons of prayer, in in- 
terceding earnestly for my beloved friends all over 
England." 

The dejection of mind of which Mr. Martyn here 
speaks, and which returned the next day wdfh an over- 
powering influence, was evidently combined with, and 
augmented by, much bodily infirmity ; and no doubt 
would have been alleviated by the sympathising inter- 
course of a companion in tribulation, and in the king- 
dom and patience of Jesus Christ. The original in- 
I 



9^8 ARRIVES AT CORK. 

junction given to the seventy, was given by him wha 
knew what was in man, and who therefore sent them 
' two and two before his face intc^ every city' — for, two 
are better than one, because they have a good reward for 
their labour: for if they fall, the one will lift up his fel- 
low : but woe to him that is alone when he falleth, for 
he hath not another to help him up' — Eccles. iv. 9, 10. 

"England had disappeared, and with it, all my 
peace." " The pains of memory were all I felt. 
Would I go back? O no I — but how can I be support- 
ed ] My faith fails. I find, by experience, that I am 
weak as water. O my dear friends in England ! when 
we spoke with exultation of the mission to the Heathen, 
whilst in the midst of health, and joy, and hope; what 
an imperfect idea did we form of the sufferings by which 
it must be accomplished." Such were the complainings 
of his spirit, overwhelmed within him. Yet there were 
moments when he could " realise the realms of glo- 
ry," and when " all earthly things died away in insig- 
nificance." 

On the 14th of August, the fleet came to an anchor 
in the Cove of Cork: and there, in a spiritual sense, 
Mr. Martyn found that ' haven where he would be:' — 
there he discovered that ' heaviness may endure for a 
night, but joy. Cometh in the morning;' — and he who 
before had felt ' poor and needy, with his heart wound- 
ed within him,' could then say, ' I will greatly praise 
the Lord with my mouth;' 'thanks be to God, which 
causeth us always to triumph in Christ;' 2 Cor. ii. 
14. — " After a long and blessed season in prayer, I 
felt,^' he says, " the spirit of adoption drawing me very 
near to God, and giving me the full assurance of his 
love. My fervent prayer was, that I might be more 
deeply and habitually convinced of his unchanging, ever- 
lasting love, and that my whole soul might be alto- 
gether in Christ. I scarcely knew how to express the 
desires of my heart. I wanted to be all in Christ, and 
to have Christ for my ' all in all;' — to be encircled in 



IS DETAINED AT CORK. 99 

his everlasting arms, and to be swallowed up altoge- 
ther in his fulness. I wished for no created good, or for 
men to know my experience: but to be one with thee, 
and Jive for thee, O God, my Saviour and Lord. O 
may it be my constant care to live free from the spirit 
of bondage, at all times having access to the Father. 
This I feel should be the state of the Christian : perfect 
reconciliation with God, and a perfect appropriation 
of him in all his endeariog attributes, according to 
all that he has promised : it is this that shall bear 
me safely through the storm." — What is this, but the 
happiness intended by the Psalmist, when he breaks 
forth in those words of sublimity and rapture : ' Blessed 
are the people which know, the joyful sound; — they 
shall walk, O Lord, in the light of thy countenance: in 
thy name shall they rejoice all the day, and in thy 
righteousness shall they be exalted-' Psalm Ixxxix. 
15, 16. 

At Cork, Mr. Marty n endeavoured to procure an ad- 
mission to a pulpit in the city, as wxll as to preach to the 
convicts going out with the fleet to Botany Bay, but 
was unsuccessful in both these attempts. On board 
his own ship he regularly read prayers, and preached 
once every Sabbath, lamenting that the captain would 
not permit the performance of more than one service. 
This being the case, his usefulness in the ship depended 
much, he conceived, on his private ministrations. 
Scarcely a day, therefore, passed, without his going be- 
tween the decks ; where, after assembling all who were 
willing to attend, he read to them some religious book, 
upon which he commented as he went on. '' Some at- 
tended fixedly — others are looking another way — some 
women are employed about their children, attending 
for a little while, and then heedless: some rising up 
and going away — others taking their places; and num- 
bers, especially of those who have been upon watch, 
strewed all along upon the deck fast asleep — one or 
two from the upper decks looking down and listening;'* 



100 HIS DEPARTURE 

such is the picture he draws of his congregation he- 
low. The situation of things above, when he performed 
his weekly duty on the Sabbath, was not, according to 
his own statement, more encouraging. There the op- 
position of some and the inattention of others, put his 
meekness and patience very strongly to the test, ''The 
passengers," as he describes it, " were inattentive — the 
ijfiicers, many of them, sat drinking; so that he could 
overhear their noise ; and the Captain was with them. 
His own soul was serious, and undisturbed by the ir- 
reverence of the hearers, and he thought that he could 
have poured it out in prayer, without restraint, in defi- 
ance of their scornful gaze." 

"How melancholy and humiliating," he could not 
help adding, "is this mode of public ordinances on 
ship-board, compared with the respect and joy with 
which the multitudes come up to hear my brethren on 
shore : but this prepares me for preaching amongst the 
heedless gentiles," 



CHAPTER IV. 

DEPARTURE FROM ENGLAND OCCURRENCES DURING HIS 

VOYAGE AT ST. SALVADOR. AND AT THE CAPE OF GOOD 

HOPE ARRIVED AT MADRASS-— AND AT CALCUTTA. 

On the 31st of August, after having been detained 
above a fortnight in the Cove of Cork, the fleet, consist- 
ing of fifty transports, five men of war, and the India- 
men, put sea; and now again Mr. Martyn suffered 
much both in body and mind ; he became languid and 
feverish — his nights were sleepless ; and his mental 
conflict was extremely sharp. " My anguish, at 
times," he says, " was inexpressible, when I awoke 
from my disturbed dreams, to find myself actually on 



FROM ENGLAND. 101 

my way, with a long sea rolling between me and all I 
held dearin this life." "To describe the variety of per- 
plexing, heart-rending, agonizing thoughts which pass- 
ed through my mind, and which, united with the 
weakness^and languor of my body, served to depress 
me into the depths of misery, would be impossible. 
The bodily suffering would be nothing, did not Satan 
improve his advantage in representing the happiness 
and ease of the life 1 had left. However, God did not 
leave me quite alone, poor and miserable as I was. I 
was helped to recollect several things in Scripture 
which encouraged me to hold on. Such as ' If we suf- 
fer with him, we shall also reign with him ;' — the ex- 
amples, likewise, of Moses, Abraham, and St. Paul ; 
of our blessed Lord himself, and of his saints at the 
present moment. I repeated the farewell discourse of 
St. Paul, and endeavoured to think how he would act 
in my situation. I thought of all God's people looking 
out after me with expectation : following me with their 
wishes and prayers. I thought of the holy angels, 
some of whom, perhaps, were guarding me on my way: 
and of God, and of Christ, approving my course and 
mission, ' Who will go for me? — Here am I — send 
me.' I thought of the millions of precious souls that 
now and in future ages might be benefited." By such 
considerations as these — by prayer — by reciting Scrip- 
ture — by praying over it — by casting himself simply upon 
Christ — and by looking upon pain and suffering as his 
daily portion, (which thought wonderfully served to tran- 
quillize his mind,) Mr. Martyn was carried through a 
season of great tribulation, in which he might almost 
have adopted the words of the Psalmist : ' Thou hast laid 
me in the lowest pit, in darkness, in the deeps. Thine 
indignation lieth hard upon me, and thou hast afflicted 
me with all thy waves;' Psalm Ixxxviii. 6. 7. But it is 
an inspired declaration, that 'they that wait on the 
Lord shall renew their strength : they shall mount up 
with wings as eagles, they shall run and not be weary ; 
1 2 



102 OCCURRENCES DURING 

they shall walk and not faint ;' nor was it long before he 
could affix his seal to the truth of this testimony. "In 
prayer," he says, shortly after this, " I soon launched 
sweetly into eternity, and found joy unspeakable in 
thinking of my future rest, and of the boundless love 
and joy I should ever taste in Christ's beloved presence 
hereafter. I found no difficulty in stirring myself up to 
the contemplation of heaven — my soul through grace 
realised it, and I delighted to dwell by faith on those 
blissful scenes." 

Shortly after the fleet had sailed from Ireland, a tre- 
mendous storm arose ; and though it was the first that 
Mr. Martyn had ever witnessed, his mind was kept du- 
ring a night of general anxiety and consternation, in 
perfect peace. " He lay, endeavouring to realise his 
speedy appearance before God in judgment; — not in- 
deed without sorrowful convictions of his sinfulness, 
and supplications for mercy in the name of Jesus, but 
with a full confidence in the willingness of God to re- 
ceive him ; and a desire to depart." But he was chief- 
ly led " to think of the many poor souls in the ship, 
and to pray that they might have a longer time for re- 
pentance, and that the terrors of that night might be 
of lasting benefit." In the morning, when the ves- 
sel was going under bare poles, the sea covered with 
so thick a mist from the spray and rain, that nothing 
could be seen but the tops of the nearest waves, which 
seemed to be running over the windward side of the 
ship — he seized the opportunity of pointing out the 
way of salvation to one of the passengers, who appear- 
ed much terrified ; and most willingly, had circum- 
stances permitted, would he have preached to the whole 
ship's company, warning them to flee from the wrath 
to come, and to lay hold on eternal life.' The Sunday 
following, he read the thanksgiving pra3^er after a 
storm. 

Mr. Martyn's voyage before this alarming tempest, 
had been far from expeditious. Seven wearisome 



HIS VOYAGE. 103 

weeks had passed, without having proceeded farther 
than the latitude of the Lizard. The wind now began 
to carry him forward, and about the end of the month 
of September he reached Madeira. 

His journal, during the interval between the subsi- 
ding of the storm and his arrival at Porto Santo, con- 
tains these admirable reflections. 

Sept. 9. — " My chief concern was, that this season 
of peace might be improved : when the Lord gave Da- 
vid rest from all his enemies round about, then he be- 
gan to think of building a temple to the Lord. Pass- 
ed many sweet hours of the evening in reading; — 
found a rich feast in reading Hooker's Sermons : the 
doctrines of grace are cordial to me. We are now in 
latitude 46, long. 12. The sea which I am looking 
on from the port-hole is comparatively smooth, yet it 
exhibits the moon-beams only in broken reflections. 
It is thus an emblem of my heart ; no longer tossed with 
tempestuous passions, it has subsided a little ; but 
still the mild beams of the Spirit fall on an undulating 
surface; but the time of perfect rest approaches." 

Sept. 10. — *' Endeavoured to consider w^hat should 
be my study and preparation for the mission; but 
could devise no particular plan, but to search the Scrip- 
tures, what are God's promises respecting the spread 
of the gospel, and of the means by which it shall be 
accomplished. Long seasons of prayer in behalf of the 
heathen, I am sure, are necessary; — Isaiah Ixii. I 
began Isaiah, and learnt by heart the promises scat- 
tered through the first twelve chapters, hoping it may 
prove profitable matter for meditation as well as prayer. 
Read the Pilgrim's Progress, below, amidst the greatest 
noise and interruption. Notwithstanding the clamour, 
I felt as if I could preach to a million of noisy persons 
with unconquerable boldness. We have been becalm- 
ed the whole day. I fear my soul has been much in 
the same state : but I would not that it should be so 
any longer." 



104 OCCURRENCES DURING 

Sept. 13. — " In my walk, my attention was engaged 
by the appearance of mutiny amongst the men. Last 
night, the ship's crew and the soldiers refused their 
allowance, and this morning, when they piped to dinner 
they gave three cheers. After some time, a seaman 
was fixed on as the ringleader; and from his beha- 
viour, I was not sorry to hear the Captain order him to 
be put into irons. As it was a sorrowful and humili- 
ating thing to me, I retired to pray for them and myself. 

In the afternoon I read as usual, and found two oc-^ 
casions of speaking in reference to the mutinous mur-? 
murs." 

Sept. 14. — "Found great pleasure and profit in 
Milner's Church History. I love to converse, as it 
were, with those holy bishops and martyrs, with whom 
I hope, through grace, to spend a happy eternity." 

Sept. 15. — Sunday. — " ' He that testifieth these 
things saith, behold — I come quickly — Amen — even so, 
come quickly, Lord Jesus!' Happy John! though 
shut out from society and the ordinances of grace : 
happy wast thou in thy solitude, when by it thou 
wast induced thus gladly to welcome the Lord's 
words, and repeat them with a prayer. Read and 
preached on Acts xiii. 38, 39. In the latter part, when 
I was led to speak, without preparation, on the all-suffi- 
ciency of Christ to save sinners, who came to him with 
all their sins without delay, I was carried away with 
a divine aid, to speak with freedom and energy : my 
soul was refreshed, and I retired, seeing reason to be 
thankful. The weather was fair and calm, inviting 
the mind to tranquillity and praise : the ship just mov- 
ed upon the face of the troubled ocean. I went below 
in hopes of reading Baxter's Call to the Unconverted : 
but there was no getting down, as they were taking out 
water: so I sat with the seamen on the gun deck. As 
I walked in the evening at sun-set I thought with plea- 
sure, but a few more suns, and I shall be where my 
sun shall no more go down. Read Isaiah the rest of 



HIS VOYAGE. 105 

the evening", sometimes happy, but at other times tired, 
and desiring to take up some other religious book; — 
but I saw it an important duty to check this slighting 
of the word of God." 

Sept. 16. — "Two things were much in my mind 
this morning in prayer ; the necessity of entering more 
deeply into my own heart, and labouring after humi- 
liation, and, for that reason, setting apart times for 
fasting : as also to devote times for solemn prayer for 
fitness in the ministry; especially love for souls; and 
for the effusion of the Spirit on heathen lands ; accord- 
ing to God's command. M coming in, said that 

many had become more hostile than ever ; saying they 
should come up to prayers, because they believed I 
was sincere ; but not to the sermon, as I did nothing 
but preach about hell ; I hope this portends good. 
Prevented reading below from the same cause as on 
Sunday." 

Sept 17. — "It began to blow hard again; — the calm- 
ness and pleasure with which I contemplated death, 
made me rather fear that I did not fear it enough* 
Read below with the soldiers." 

Sept. 18. — " Rose ill, and continued So all the 
day. Tried to encourage myself in the Lord. Look- 
ing at the sea, my soul was enabled to rejoice in the 
great maker of it as my God." 

Sept. 19. — " Was assisted this morning to pray 
for two hours, principally in regard to God's promises 
respecting the spread of the gospel. — Read Hindoos- 
tanee and Milner; found the men forbidden to go be- 
low, so I know not how they are to be instructed ; may 
the Lord open a way! — The weather is calm and 
sultry — my frame relaxed to a painful degree — I am 
led to seek a quiet, meek submission to every thing 
that shall befall me. Oh ! this blessed frame, would 
that it may continue! I feel it to be the right disposi- 
tion of a creature; approving of every thing, because 
it IB God's doings." 



106 OCCURRENCES DURING 

Sept. 20. — *' My soul was blessed with a sacred and 
holy reverence in the work of God this morning: it 
was the sentiment of serious love, such as I should 
always wish to maintain. To behold God in his glory, 
and worship him for what he is in himself, 1 should 
believe, is the bliss of heaven. Exercised myself in 
Hindoostanee: — Read the Pilgrim's Progress to a few 
below deck: continued to delight in the prospect of 
preaching in India. The example of the Christians of 
the early ages, has been a source of sweet reflection 
to me frequently to-day; the holy love and devout 
meditations of Augustine and Ambrose I delight to 
think of." 

Sept. 21. — *' I seemed uneasy at the thought of call- 
ing forth the hatred of the people to-morrow, by preach- 
ing to them unpleasant truths." 

Sept. 22, Sunday. — " Was more tried by the fear of 
man, than I ever have been since God had nailed me to 
the ministry. The threats and opposition of those men 
made me unwilling to set before them the truths which 
they hated: yet I had no species of hesitation about 
doing it. They had let me know that if I would preach 
a sermon like one of Blair's, they should be glad to 
hear it, but they would not attend if so much of hell 

was preached. This morning, again, Capt. • said, 

•♦ Mr. Martyn must not damn us to-day, or none will 
come again." I was a little disturbed; but Luke x. 
and above all our Lord's last address to his disciples, 
John xiv. 16, strengthened me, and Flook for my text 
Psalm ix. 17, ' The wicked shall be turned into hell, 
and all the nations that forget God.' The officers were 
all behind my back, in order to have an opportunity of 

retiring in case of dislike. B had attended the 

whole time. H , as soon as he heard the text, went 

back and said he would hear no more about hell ; so he 

employed himself in feeding the geese. said I 

shut him up in hell, and the universal cry was, " we are all 
to be damned." However, God, I trust, blessed the ser- 



HIS VOYAGfi. 107 

mon to the good of many. Some of the cadets, and 
soldiers, were in tears. I felt an ardour and vehemence 
in some parts which are unusual with me. After ser- 
vice, walked the deck with Mrs. ; she spoke with 

so much simplicity and amiable humility, that I was 
full of joy and adoration to God for a sheep brought to 
his fold . In the afternoon went below, intending to read 
to them at the hatchway, but there was not one of them ; 
so I could get nothing to do among the poor soldiers." 

Sept, 23. — " We are just to the south of all Europe, 
and I bid adieu to it for ever, without a wish of ever 
revisiting it, and still less with any desire of taking up 
my rest in the strange land to which I am going. Ah I 
no — farewell, perishing world ! ' To me to live, shall 
be Christ.' 1 have nothing to do here, but labour as a 
stranger, and by secret prayer and outward exertion 
do as much as possible for the church of Christ and my 
own soul, till my eyes close in death, and my soul 
wings its way to a brighter world. Strengthen me, O 
God my Saviour; that, whether living or dying, I may 
be thine." 

Sept. 24. — " The determination with which I went 
to bed last night, of devoting this day to prayer and fast- 
ing, I was enabled to put into execution." 

Sept. 25. — " Most of the morning employed in Hin- 
doostanee. — Read the Pilgrim's Progress and Baxter 
below. Had a long conversation with one of the Las- 
cars." 

Sept. 27. — " The oaths I heard on deck moved my 
indignation : but I recollected the words of the Mace- 
donian in the dream, "Come over and help us." Pro- 
bably there was no one in Macedon that felt his need 
of help, but the Holy Spirit put it in this engaging way, 
because they did request as much by their silent misery. 
So I thought that every oath they swore, was a call on 
me to help them. In the afternoon, I was told that I 
could not go below, as there had been fires lighted to 
air the deck. Went, by way of changing the scene, in 



108 OCCURRENCES DURING 

a boat, to the Sarah Christiana, about three miles off. 
It was a novel thing to be in a little boat in the midst 
of the g"ieat ocean. The nearest main land, Africa, was 
three hundred and fifty miles distant. I reflected with- 
out pain that England was eleven l\undred miles 
off, 

Sept. 28. — " My thoughts were much engaged, as 
well as those about me, with the prospect of going on 
shore. They were doing nothing else for hours, but 
looking out with their glasses for land. After dinner, 
on coming out, I saw the majestic heights of Porto 
Santo, distant about five or six leagues. Again 1 was 
disappointed of going below, from the same cause as 
before. Was diverted from my proper work by look- 
ing at a Portuguese grammar. So astonishing is the 
weakness of my heart, that every trifle has power to 
draw me from that communion with God which my 
better will chooses, as my best and beloved portion. 
O for the steady ' abiding under the shadow of the Al- 
mighty ;' and as the days pass on^ and bring me nearer 
to the end of things which are seen, so let me be more 
and more quickened, to be ready for the unseen 
world." 

By faith I see the land 

With peace and plenty blest ; 
A land of sacred liberty 

And endless rest. 

Mr. Martyn's diligence in his humble and despised 
ministrations amongst the soldiers in the ship with him^ 
will not have escaped the attention of those who have 
read the above extracts* It will have been remarked, 
that there were not many days in which he remitted this 
work. Nor was his labour confined to the soldiers; 
their oflicers were addressed by him with equal earn- 
estness, on every fair and favourable opportunity. 
With some he had frequent religious conversations. 
The cadets, also, he endeavoured to *' allure to brighter 
worlds ;" and to shew that he had also their welfare 



HIS VOYAOK. 109 

in this world at heart, he offered gratuitously to instruct 
in mathematics as many as chose to come to him; an 
offer which several accepted : and as if this were not 
enough to occupy his time, he undertook also to read 
French with another passenger, who was desirous of 
improvement in that language. He was willing to ' be* 
come all things to all men, that he might'by all means 
gain some. How far it were wise in him to preach 
upon the awful subject of eternal misery, immediately 
after an injunction to abstain from such a topic, is a 
question which may admit of a diversity of sentiment. 
Certain, however, it is, that men may be told, 'even 
w^eeping, that their end is destruction ;' and the temper 
by which Mr. Martyn w^as invariably characterized, 
leaves no room to doubt that his conduct in this in- 
stance was influenced by an imperious sense of duty, 
and by the tender overflowings of love. 

The sight of a foreign land, where superstition held 
her dark and undisputed sway, naturally excited a new 
train of sensations in Mr. Maityn's mind, which he 
thus communicated, from Funchal, to a near relation 
at Falmouth. " Yesterday morning we came to an an- 
chor at this place. The craggy mountains, at the foot 
of which Funchal is situated, make a most grand and 
picturesque appearance. On entering the town, I was 
struck with the conviction of being in a foreign country. 
Every thing was different ; — the houses, even the poor- 
est, all regular, and stately — everywhere groves of 
orange and lemon trees — the countenances, and dress, 
and manners of the people, different from those I had 
been used to — black-skirted Catholic Priests, and nun- 
like women, with beads and a crucifix, passing in all 
directions. How would St. Paul have sighed in pass- 
ing through this town, so wholly given up to idolatry! 
I went to the great church, where they were performing 
high mass, and was perfectly dazzled with the golden 
splendour of the place. But all the external aids of de- 
votion lost their usual effect upon me, while I contem- 
K 



110 OCCURRISNCES DURING HIS VOVAGE. 

plated the endless multitude of mountebank tricks the 
priests were exhibiting. Is it possible, thought I, that 
this should be a Christian Church! There was no ap- 
pearance of attention, excepting in one poor African 
woman, who was crossijig herself repeatedly, with the 
utmost expression of contrition in her countenance* 
Perhaps, said I to her in my mind, we shall meet in hea- 
ven." 

After remaining four days at Funchal, the fleet put 
to sea, information having been previously imparted to 
the army, that their o^ ect was the capture of the Cape 
of Good Hope, and that, accordingly, they might ex- 
pect, ere long, to meet an enemy on the field of battle. 
Intelligence of this nature served to quicken that ac- 
tivity and zeal, which in Mr. Martyn had not hitherto 
been either sluggish or supine. He was therefore per- 
petually visiting, or attempting to visit, that part of 
his flock which was so soon to be exposed to the perils 
of warfare. "I entreated them even with tears," said 
he, " out of fervent love for their souls, and I could 
have poured away my life to have persuaded them to 
return to God." — By a sentence in Milner's Church 
History — " To believe, to suffer, and to love, was the 
primitive taste," — he states that his mind, at this time, 
was very deeply impressed; observing that " no unin- 
spired sentence ever affected him so much." It was, 
in fact, an epitome of his own life, conversation, and 
spirit : a lively exemplification of which is to be found 
in the manner in which, during this paft of the voyage, 
he strove against an extreme and oppressive langour of 
body, which tended to impede his present labours, and 
threatened to impair his future efficiency — " The extreme 
weakness and languor of my body made me fear I should 
never be used as a preacher in India: But what," said 
he, '' means this anxiety? Is it not of God that I am 
led into outward difficulties, that my faith may be 
tried! Do the will of God where you are, and leave 
the rest to him." — "I found great satisfaction in reflect- 



FROM POUTC SANTO TO ST. SALVADOR. Ill 

Ingy that my hourly wisdom was, not to repine, or to 
look for a change ; but to consider, what is my duty in 
existing circum.stances, and then to do it, in dependence 
upon grace." So deeply was his soul imbued with 
the '* primitive taste," and so entirely did it accord with 
that wise maxim of such universal but difficult appli- 
cation — 

" Tu tua f\ic cures — cselera niitte Deo." 

The voyage from Port-o Santo to St. Salvador was 
accomplished in little more than five weeks ; during 
which the special providence of God watched over Mr. 
Martyn and those who sailed with him. Soon after 
crossing the line, on the 30th of October, the Union, 
in which he sailed, passed in the night within a very 
short distance of a dangerous reef of rocks, which 
proved destructive to two other vessels. The reef lay 
exactly across the track of the Union, and had not the 
second mate, who was on watch, called up the cap- 
tain and the first mate as soon as danger was disco- 
vered, they would inevitably have been w-recked: 
their escape was considered as almost miraculous. 
Pieces of the ships that were dashed against the 
rocks floated by them, and many of those who had 
been cast on the reef were seen making signals for 
assistance. The anxiety on board the Union respect- 
ing these unhappy persons was intense : happily they 
were all saved, with the exception of three officers, 
one of whom lost his life in endeavouring to secure a 
large sum of money : leaving the vessel too soon, he 
sunk to rise no more; and, as it was supposed, was 
devoured by the sharks which surrounded the ships in 
great numbers. Nor was this the only peril which the 
Union escaped ; on the coast of South America she 
incurred a similar risk- *' how sweet," remarked 
Mr. Martyn, '' to perceive such repeated instances of 
God's guardian care!" — During this part of the voy- 
rigp. tlift novel sight of tlie flying-fish beginning to 



113 OCCURRENCES AT 

attract attention, Mr. Martyn's mind, ever fertile in 
topics of humiliation, could discover " a resemblance 
to his own soul in these poor little creatures ; who 
rose to a little height, and then, in a minute or two, 
when their fins were dry, dropped into the waves." 
Others, doubtless, would ha.ve chosen for him a far 
different similitude, and would have sought it rather in 
the eagle soaring into the fields of light, or in the 
dove of the poet, 

f '' When at lengtli she springs 

To smoother flight, and shoots upon her wings." — Drtdex. 

*' I find (Mr. Martyn wrote on his arrival at St. Sal- 
vador, to a friend in England) that neither distance or 
time can separate the hearts w^hich are united in the 
fellowship of the Gospel, as well as by mutual esteem. 
Mere earthly affections are weakened by time and ah* 
sence; but Christian love grows stronger as the day 
of salvation approaches. Already a watery w^aste of 
four thousand miles lies between me and England; 
but because I have you in my heart, and make mention 
of you without ceasing in my prayers, you seem yet 
scarcely out of sight." 

To another friend he wrote : — 

" Though a long sea is rolling already betwixt us, 
yet I scarcely seem to have lost sight of you, or of my 
dear friends at Cambridge. The hymns w^e sing, being 
chiefly taken from your collection, daily bring to my 
remembrance the happy days when Xwent with the 
multitude to the house of God, with the voice of jo}^ 
and praise. Those seasons are gone b}^; but I com-* 
fort myself with thinking that they will quickly be re^ 
newed in a better country, when we come to dwell to- 
gether in the mansions of our Father's house." 

The description of St. Salvador, and the events con-^ 
nected with Mr. Martyn's stay there, we have thus re* 
^corded at some length. 



ST. fJALVADOR. 1 13 

Nov. 12. — '* The coast was bpautiful, with much ro- 
mantic scenery. The town exactly resembled Funchal, 
but was rather morecheerfuL The objects in the street 
were strong negro-mon slaves, carrying very heavy 
casks on a pole, w^ith a sort of unpleasant note; — 
negro-women carrying fish, fruit, &c. — a few palan- 
quins, which are drawn by two mules. The things 
exposed to sale were turtles, bananas, oranges, limes, 
papaws, water-melons, tamarinds, and fustic-wood. I 
walked up the hill in order to get into the countrj', 
and observed a man standing by the way-side, holding 
out for the people's salutation, a silver^embossed piece 
of plate of a small oval size, and repeating some words 
about St. Antonio. »Some kissed it; others took off 
their hats; but the man himself seemed to ridicule 
their folly. They were performing mass in one church ; 
it w^as not so splendid as that at Madeira; many of the 
priests were negroes. I soon rea-ched the suburbs, on the 
outside of v/hich was a battery which commanded a 
viev/ of the whole bay, and repeated the hymn, " O'er 
tlie gloomy bills of darkness." What happy Mission- 
ary shall be sent to bear the name of Christ to these 
western regions ! When shall this beautiful country 
be delivered from idolatry and spurious Christianity! 
Crosses there are in abundance; but when shall the 
doctrine of the cross be held up! I continued my 
w^alk in quest of a wood, or some trees v/here I might 
sit down; but all was appropriated: no tree w^as to be 
approached except through an enclosure. At last I 
came to a magnificent porch, before a garden gate, 
which was open; I w^alked in, but finding the vista led 
straight to the house, I turned to the right, and found 
myself in a grove of cocoanut trees, orange-trees, and 
several strange fruit trees; under them w^as nothing 
but rose trees, but no verdure on the ground : oranges 
were strewed like apples in an orchard. Perceiving 
thati was observed by the slaves, I came up to the 
house, and was directed by them to an old man sitting 

K 2 



114 OCCURRKNCES AT 

under a tree, apparently insensible from illness. I 
spoke to him in French and in English; but he took 
no notice. Presently a young man and a young lady 
appeared, to whom I spoke in French, and was very po- 
litely desired to sit down at a little table, which was 
standing under a large space before the house like a 
veranda. They then brought me oranges, and a small 
red acid fruit, the name of which I asked, but cannot 
recollect. The young man sat opposite conversing 
about Cambridge; he had been educated in a Portu^ 
guese University. Almost immediately on finding I 
was of Cambridge, he invited me to come when I 
liked to his house. A slave, after bringing the fruit 
was sent to gather three roses for me: the master 
then walked with me round the garden, and shewed 
me among the rest the coffee plant: when I left him 
he repeated his invitation. Thus did the Lord give his 
servant favour in the eyes of Antonio .Toseph Corre." 
Nov. 13. — "This morning there was a great storm 
of thunder, lightning, and rain, which awoke me. I got 
up and prayed. Oh! when the last great thunder echoes 
from pole to pole, I shall be in earnest, if not .be^ 
fore. 

Nov. 14. — *' Sennor Antonio received mew4ththesame 
cordiality: he begged me to dine with him. I was curious 
and attentive to observe the difference between the Por* 
tuguese manners and ours: there were but two plates 
laid on the table, and the dinner consisted of a great 
number of small mixed dishes, follovHrng one another 
in quick succession ; but none of them very palatable. 
In the cool of the evening, we walked out to see his plan- 
tation ; here every thing possessed the charm of novelty. 
The grounds included two hills, and a valley between 
them. The hills w^ere covered with cocoanut trees, 
bananas, mangoes, orange and lemon trees, olives, cof- 
fee, chocolate, and cotton plants, &c. In the valley was 
a large plantation of a shrub or tree, bearing a cluster 
of small berries, which he desired me to taste; I did, 



«T. SALVADOR. 11^ 

:aid found it was pepper. It had lately been introduced 
from Batavia, and answered very well. It grows on 
a stem about the thickness of a finger, to the height of 
about seven feet, and is supported by a stick, which, at 
that height, has another across it for the branches to 
spread upon. Slaves were walking about the grounds ; 
watering the trees, and turning up the earth: the soil 
appeared very dry and loose. At night I returned to the 
ship in one of the country boats; which are canoes 
made of a tree hollowed out, and paddled by three 
men.'' 

Nov. 18. — "Went ashore at six o'clock, and found 
that Sennor Antonio had been waiting for me two hours. 
It being too late to go into the country, I staid at his 
house till dinner. He kept me too much in his compa- 
ny, but I found intervals for retirement. In a cool and 
shady part of the garden, near some water, I sat and 
sang — 'O'er the gloomy hills of darkness.' I could 
read and pray aloud, as there was no fear of any one 
understanding me. In the afternoon we went in a pa- 
lanquin to visit his father. Reading the eighty-fourth 
Psalm, ' O how amiable are thy tabernacles,' this morn- 
ing in the shade — the day when I read it last under the 
trees with L ,was brought forcibly to my remem- 
brance, and produced some degree of melancholy. Of 
this I was thinking all the way 1 was carried : and the 
train of reflections into which I was led, drew off my at- 
tention from the present scene. We visited in our way, 
a monastery of Carmelites : in the church belonging to 
it, my friend Antonio knelt some time, and crossed him- 
self : I was surprised, but said nothing; At his fa- 
ther's house, I was described to them as one who knew 
every thing — Arabic, Persian, Greek, &c. ; and all 
stared at me as if I had dropped from the skies. The 
father, Sennor Dominigo, spoke a little Latin. A priest 
came in, and as it was the first time I had been in com- 
pany with one, I spoke to him in Latin, buthe blushed, 
and said that he did not speak it, I was very sorry I 



116 occunnENCES at 

had undesignedly put him to pain. Had a great deal 
of conversation with Antonio, afterwards, on England 
and on religion. He had formed such an idea of Eng- 
land, that he had resolved to send his son to be edu- 
cated there. — A slave in my bed-room w^ashed my feet. 
1 was struck with the degree of abasement expressed 
in the act, and as he held the foot in the towel, with 
his head bowed down towards it, I remembered the con- 
descension of the blessed Lord. May I have grace to 
follow such humility !" 

Nov. 19. — "Early after breakfast went in a palan- 
quin to Sennor Dominigo's, and from thence with him 
two or three miles into the country: at intervals I got 
out and walked. I was gratified with the sight of 
what I wanted to see ; namely, some part of the countiy 
in its original state, covered with wood ; it was hilly, 
but not mountainous. The luxuriance was so rank, 
that the whole space, even to the tops of the trees, was 
filled with long stringy shrubs a.nd weeds, so as to 
make them impervious, and opaque. The road was 
made by cutting away the earth on the side of the hill, 
so that there were w^oods above and below us. The 
object of our walk was to see a pepper plantation, made 
in a valley, on a perfect level. The symmetry of the 
trees was wiiat charmed my Portuguese friend ; but to 
me, who w^as seeking the wild features of America, it 
was just what I did not v/ant. The person who shew- 
ed us the grounds, was one that had been a major in the 
Portuguese army, and had retired on a' pension. The 
border consisted of pine-apples, planted between eacli 
tree; the interior w^as set with lemon-trees, here and 
there, between the pepper-plants. We were show^n the 
root of the Mandioc, called by us tapioca,' it was like 
a large horse-radish ; the mill for grinding it was ex- 
tremely simple; a horizontal wheel, turned b}?- horses, 
put in motion a vertical one ; on the circumtference of 
which was a thin brazen plate, furnished on the inside 
like a nutmeg-grater; a slave held the root to tho 



«T. SALVADOR. 117 

wheel, which grated it awa)', and threw it in the form 
of a moist paste into a receptacle below : it is then dried 
in pans, and used as a farina with meat. At Sennor 
Antonio's, a plate of tapioca was attached to each of 
our plates. Some of the pepper was nearly ripe, and 
of a reddish appearance; when gathered, which it is 
in April, it is dried in the sun. In our way to the old 
major's house, we came to a small church, on an emi- 
nence, on a plot of ground surrounded by a wall, 
which was for the purpose of burying the dead from 
a neighbouring hospital, erected for those afflicted with 
a cutaneous disorder called a morphee. What this is 
I could not learn, as I saw none of the patients. The 
major had apartments at the hospital, of which he was 
inspector. In the church all three knelt and crossed 
themselves as usual. I said nothing; but upon this 
a conversation began among them, chiefly from Sennor 
Antonio's mentioning to them my objection. The 
major spoke with a vehemence which would have be- 
come a better cause : Antonio acted as interpreter. By 
constant appeal to the Scriptures, on every subject, I 
gave immediate answers. The old man concluded the 
conversation by saying, that he w^as sure I read the 
Scriptures, and therefore would embrace me, which 
he did after the manner of the country. Sennor 
Antonio told me plainly, at last, what I had long been 
expecting to hear, that the prejudices of education 
were strong, and operated to keep his father bigoted; 
but that, for himself, he had nothing to do with saints; 
in secret he adored God alone. I could have wished 
more; it was the confession rather of a liberal than a 
religious mind. Soon after there was a procession of 
priests carrying the sacrament to the house of a person 
just departing; they both knelt, and continued till it 
had past. Sennor Antonio said, that he * conformed to 
the custom of the country in trifles.' I thought of Naa^ 
man and his god Rimmon. I did not, however, think 
it ri^ht to push the matter too suddenly ; but told him 



118 OCCURRENCES AT 

in general, how the English Reformers were led to 
prison and to flames, rather than conform, and that if 
I had been born a Portuguese, I would rather be im- 
prisoned and burnt, than conform— to idolatr3^ — At the 
same time I talked to him of the doctrines of the * new 
birth,' &c.but he did not seem to pay much attention. 
Sennor Dominigo asked me if the soldiers had a mi- 
nister to attend them in their dying moments, to instruct 
and to administer consolation. For the first time I felt 
that I had the worst of the argument, and hardly knew 
what to say to explain such neglect among the Pro- 
testants. He shrugged up his shoulders with horror 
at such a religion. We were then shewn the hospital 
erected by the Prince of Portugal : it was a noble build- 
ing, far superior to that at Haslar. In the garden, 
each person, alternately,- gathered a sprig or fragrant 
leaf for me. The person who showed it to us, was a 
chevalier of some order. In the chapel Sennor Antonio 
knelt; but always looked on me smiling, and said, 
" c'est le coutume du pays." I left him in order to 
get on board ; but finding, as I went along, a chapel 
open, I went in to see the pictures ; all of which con- 
tained, as a prominent figure, a friar of some order. 
In one, some people in flames were laying hold of the 
twisted rope which was pendant from his waist ; how 
apt the image, if Jesus Christ were in the room of the 
friars. At this time a friar, dressed identically as the 
one in the picture, moved slowly along; I followed 
him through the cloisters and addressed him in Latin. 
He was a little surprised; but replied. He told me 
that the chapel belonged to a monastery of Franciscan 
friars. In a cloister which led round the second floor 
of the building he stopped ; and by this time we were 
able to understand each other exceedingly well. I 
then asked him to prove from Scripture the doctrine of 
purgatory, of image-worship, the supremacy of the 
Pope, and transubstantiation. His arguments were 
exceedingly weak, and the Lord furnished me with an 



ST. SALVADOR* 119 

answer to them all. During our conversation, two 
or three more friars assembled round, and joined in the 
dispute. I confuted all their errors as plainly as pos- 
sible, from the word of God ; and they had nothing to 
reply, but did not seem disconcerted. A whole troop 
of others, passing in procession in the opposite cloister 
below, beckoned to them to retire; which they did, 
taking me along with them to a cell — two before and 
one on each side. As we passed along the passage, 
one asked me whether I was a Christian. When we 
had all reached the cell, and sat down, I asked for a 
Bible, and the dispute was renewed. I found that 
they considered their errors as not tenable on scripture 
ground ; and appealed to the authority of the church. 
I told them that this church was, by their confession, 
acting against the law of God ; and was therefore not 
the church of God : I also referred them to the last 
words in the revelations. They seemed most sur- 
prised at my knowledge of Scripture. When they 
were silent, and had nothing to say, I was afraid the 
business would -end here without good ; and so I 
said — " you who profess to teach the way of truth, 
how can you dare, before God, to let the people go on 
in idolatrous practices, which you know to be contrary 
to the word of God ?" They looked very grave. 
The one who spoke French and the best Latin, grew very 
angry during the dispute ; and talked of the Scriptu- 
rarum interpretes — pii sapientissimique viri Augusti- 
nus, Bernardus, &c. ; but, said I, " they were not in- 
spired." " Yes," he said. But here he was corrected 
by the rest. As this man seemed in earnest, (the rest 
were sometimes grave and sometimes laughing,) I ask- 
ed him why he had assumed the cowl of a friar ; — he 
answered, * ut me abstraherem a vanitate rerum mun- 
danarum et meipsum sanctum faciam ad gloriam Dei." 
He spoke with great impression and earnestness and 
seemed the most sincere of any. They w^ere acquaint- 
ed with logic, and argued according to rule. He began 



120 OCCURRENCES AT 

by saying", ** nuUam salutem esse extra ecclesiam 
Catholicam, axioma est." " Concedo," said I — 
" sed extra Romanam salus esse potest." — " Mini- 
me," they all cried out. '' Quare," said I, "proba;" 
but they could not. At last I went away, as the sun 
had set, and they all attended me through the long 
dark passages. I almost trembled at the situation and 
company I was in, but they were exceedingly polite, 
and begged to know when I was coming ashore again, 
that they might expect me. I had staid so long, that, 
after waiting for hours at the different quays, no boat 
returned; and I was obliged to return to Sennor Anto- 
nio's, from whom I received an affectionate welcome. 
His wife and slaves, who seemed to be admitted to the 
utmost familiarity, delighted to stand around me, and 
teach me the Portuguese names of things." 

Nov. 21. — *' Went on shore and breakfasted witK^ 
Sennor Antonio. After dinner, while he slept, I had 
some time for reading, &c. In the evening, he and his 
wife and a female slave played at cards. I sat at the 
table, learning Hindoostanee roots."* 

Nov. 23. — " In tke afternoon took leave of my kind 
friends Sennor and Sennora Corre. They and th(5 rest 
came out to the garden gate, and continued looking, till 
the winding of the road hid me from their sight. The 
poor slave Raymond, who had attended me and carried 
my things, burst into a flood of tears, as we left the door ; 
and when I parted from him he was going to kiss my 
feet; but I shook hands with him, much affected by 
such extraordinary kindness, in people to whom I had 
been a total stranger till within a few days; What 
shall I render unto the Lord for all his mercies ! — In 
my way to the quay, I met a young friar of the order of 
St. Augustine. He understood me enough to conduct 
me part of the way to the convent of the Franciscans ; 
till he met with a young priest, to whom he consigned 
me. With him I had a dispute in Latin. When I said 
that in no part of Scripture was it commanded to wor- 



«T. SALVADOR. . 121 

ship the Virgin ; he coloured, and said in a low tone, 
' verum est.' At the monastery, I met with my old 
friends the same four friars. After regaling me with 
sweetmeats, they renewed the dispute. We parted 
with mutual lamentations over one another; I telling 
them they were in an awful error ; they smiling at my 
obstinacy, and mourning over my lost condition. I went 
away in no small dejection, that the gospel should have 
so little effect, or rather none at all. This was by no means 
diminished when I came to the boat. It was the com- 
memoration of the Hegira; and our Mahomedan row- 
ers, dressed in white, were singing hymns, all the way, 
to the honour of Mahomet. Here was another abomi- 
nation. B sat beside me, and we had a long 

conversation, and for some time went on very well. I 
cleared away error, as I thought, very fast; and when 
the time was come, I stated in a few words the gospel. 
The reply was, that " I was not speaking to the pur- 
pose ; that, for his part, he could not see what more 
could be necessary, than simply to tell mankind that 
they must be sober and honest." I turned away, and, 
with a deep sigh, cried to God to interfere in behalf of 
his gospel : for in the course of one hour, I had seen three 
shocking examples of the reign and power of the devil, 
in the form of Popish and Mahomedan delusion, and that 
of the natural man. I never felt so strongly what a 
nothing I am. All my clear arguments are good for no- 
thing ; — unless the Lord stretch out his hand, I speak to 
stones. I felt, however, no way discouraged ; but only 
saw the necessity of dependence on God." 

After little more than a fortnight, the fleet sailed ; 
whilst many a grateful recollection filled the breast, and 
many a fervent prayer ascended from the heart of Mr. 
Marty n, in behalf of Sennor and Sennora Corre: — from 
them he had received signal kindness and hospitality: 
— and it might not perhaps be too much to observe, that, 
'* not forgetful to entertain strangers, they had enter- 
tained an angel unawares." *' I have been with my 
L 



129 DEPARTURE FROM 

friend Antonio," said he, " as a way-faring man that 
tarrieth but for a night; yet hath the Lord put it into 
his heart to send me on after a goodly sort. And now 
we prosecute our voyage : a few more passages, and I 
shall find myself in the scene of my ministry : a few 
more changes and journeys, and I am in eternity." 

As the time approached for the soldiers to take the 
field, Mr. Martyn's anxiety for their eternal welfare 
increased; and as a proof of it, he set apart a day for 
fasting, humiliation, and intercession for them, as well 
as for all who were in the ship. But he did not inter- 
cede for them, he observed, as being himself righteouSy 
but chose rather to be humble himself with them as 
a sinner; earnestly crying to God in contrition and 
abasement of soul. At this solemn juncture, he began 
to read and expound to his auditors the holy Scriptures 
exclusively; and after some consideration respecting 
the propriety of such a step, he determined not to suffer 
them to part without prayer to the Lord, as well as 
singing his praises. Such a procedure he was well 
aware would put the faith of his hearers, as well as 
his own in some measure, to a strong and severe test.. 
Move^ obloquy and contempt might be expected ; below, 
noise and clamour and scoffs. He nevertheless persist- 
ed in his purpose, resolving, as the line of duty seemed 
to be clear, to pursue it steadily, and calmly to commit 
all consequences to God. "To kneel in prayer," he 
remarked in a letter to a friend, "before a considerable 
number of lookers-on, some working, others scoffing,was- 
a painful cross to my poor people at first. But they re- 
ceived strength according to their day: and now the 
song of us all is, ' Thou hast prepared a table before 
me in the presence of my enemies." 

The unhealthy state of the ship's company from 
dysentery, at this period of the voyage, was another 
call on Mr. Martyn's pastoral assiduity; a call to 
which he evinced no backwardness to attend. Often 
was he to be found by the beds of the sick, administering 



ST. SALVADOR. 123 

to them every temporal and spiritual comfort; till at 
length he was himself seized by that contagious disor- 
der. His illness was not of long duration, but was 
such as to make him think seriously of death, and em- 
ploy himself in the most solemn self-examination. On 
which occasion, he had so much delight and joy in the 
consideration of heaven, and of his assured title to it, 
that he was more desirous of dying than living: not 
that it was any one thing that he had done, (he re- 
marks,) that gave him substantial reason for Ihinking 
himself in Christ ; — it was the bent of his affections and 
inclinations towards God, and the taste he had for holy 
pleasures and holy employments, which convinced him 
that he was born of God. 

No sooner had he recovered from this attack, than he 
was again at his post — kneeling beside the hammocks 
of the dying. And amongst those who then required 
and received his faithful offices, was the captain of the 
ship, whose illness, though of a diflferent kind from the 
prevailing one, was highly dangerous, and quickly 
terminated in his dissolution. 

And now, as the year was drawing to a close, and 
the last sabbath of it was come, Mr. Martyn addressed 
his hearers from 2 Pet. iii. 11 ; — " Seeing then that all 
these things shatt be dissolved, what manner of per- 
sons ought ye to be, in all holy conversation and god- 
liness;" in reference to their having left England— 
to their having passed through so many perils — to their 
being,, many of them, about to meet an enemy in the 
field — and to the death of the captain. His own 
mind, which could not but be in an exceeding serious 
frame, was also in a state of the purest joy, and most 
perfect peace. "Separated," said he, " from my friends 
and country for ever, there is nothing to distract me 
from hearing ' the voice of my beloved,' and coming 
away from this world, and walking with him in love, 
amidst the flowers that perfume the air of paradise, 
and the harmony of the happy, happy saints who aro 



124 CLOSE OF THE YEAR. 

singing his praise. Thus hath the Lord brought me to 
the conclusion of the year; and though I have broken 
his statutes, and not kept his commandments; yet he 
hath not utterly taken away his loving kindness, nor 
suffered his truth to fail, I thought at the beginning 
of the year, that I should have been in India at this 
time, if I should have escaped all the dangers of the 
climate. These dangers are yet to come ; but I can leave 
all cheerfully to God. If I am weary of any thing, it 
is of my life of sinfulness. I want a life of more devo- 
tion and holiness ; and yet am so vain, as to be expect- 
ing the end without the means. I am so far from re- 
gretting that I ever came on this delightful work ; were 
I to choose for myself, I could scarcely find a situation 
more agreeable to my taste. On, therefore, let me go, 
and persevere steadily in this blessed undertaking: 
through the grace of God dying daily to the opinions 
of men, and aiming, with a more single eye, at the 
glory of the everlasting God." 

On" the 2nd of January, 1806, whilst Mr. Martyn 
was in the act of commending his flock to God in 
prayer, the high lands of the Cape became visible, 
at eighty miles distance ; and doubtless they were not 
seen without exciting the strongest emotions in many 
hearts: numbers were soon there 4o assemble, who 
should meet no more till all nations were gathered 
before the tribunal of Christ. 

On the 3d the fleet anchored, and the signal was 
instantly given for the soldiers to prepare to land. But 
how then was Mr. Martyn's holy and affectionate soul 
grieved, to witness the dreadful levity concerning death 
which almost universally prevailed ! "It was," said 
he, " a melancholy scene. I could speak to none of 

my people but to Corporal B , and ; I said 

also to Serjeant G •, ' It is now high time to be de- 
cided in religion.' He replied with a sigh. Poor 

Corporal B and the others gave me a last affecting 

look after they were in the boats. I retired to pray, 



ARRIVAL AT THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE. 125 

and found delightful access to God, and freedom in 
prayer for the poor soldiers." The Indiamen being 
then ordered to get under weigh, and the. men of war 
drawn up close to the shore, a landing was effected, 
and soon after seven the next day, as Mr. Martyn de- 
scribes it, " a most tremendous fire of artillery began 
behind a mountain abreast of the ships. It seemed as 
if the mountain itself was torn by intestine convulsions. 
The smoke arose from a lesser eminence on the right 
of the hill; and, on the top of it, troops were seen 
marching down the further declivity. Then came 
such a long-drawn fire of musketry, that I could not 
conceive any thing like it. We all shuddered at con- 
sidering what a multitude of souls must be passing into 
eternity. The poor ladies were in a dreadful condi- 
tion; every peal seemed to go through their hearts. 
I haviB just been endeavouring to do what I can to keep 
up their spirits. The sound is now retiring; and the 
enemy are seen retreating along the low ground on the 
right towards the town." 

With the hope of being useful to the wounded and 
dying in the field of battle, Mr. Martyn, after this pe- 
riod of torturing suspense went on shore ; and in the 
following letter to Mr. Simeon, he states what he endur- 
ed whilst engaged in that disinterested errand of love 
and mercy. 

" Union, Table Bay, Jan. 7, 1806. 
'' I embraced the opportunity of getting to the wound- 
ed men, soon after my landing. A party of the com- 
pany's troops were ordered to repair to the field of bat- 
tle, to bring away the wounded, under the command of 
Major , whom I knew. By his permission, I at- 
tached myself to them, and marched six miles over a 
soft burning sand, till we reached the fatal spot. We 
found several but slightly hurt: and these we left for 
a while, after seeing their wounds dressed by a sur- 
geon. A little onward were three mortally wounded. 
L 2 



126 LETTER FROM THE 

One of them, on being* asked ' where he was struck,' 
opened his shirt and shewed a wound in his left breast. 
The blood which he was spitting shewed that he had 
been shot through the lungs. As I spread my great 
coat over him, by the surgeon's desire, who passed on 
without attempting to save him, I spoke of the blessed 
gospel, and besought him to look to Jesus Christ for 
salvation. He was surprised, but could not speak ; and 
I was obliged to leave him, in order to reach the troops, 
from whom the officers, out of regard to my safety, 
would not allow me to be separated. Among several 
others, some wounded, and some dead, was Captain 

; who was shot by a rifleman. We all stopped 

for a while, to gaze in pensive silence, on his pale body : 
and then passed on to witness more proofs of the sin 
and misery of fallen man. Descending into the plain, 
where the main body of each army had met, I saw some 
of the 59th, one of whom, a corporal, who sometimes 
had sung with us, told me that none of the 59th were 
killed, and none of the officers wounded. Some farm- 
houses, which had been in the rear of the enemy's 
army had been converted into an hospital for the 
wounded, whom they were bringing from all quarters. 
The surgeon told me that there were already in the houses 
two hundred, some of whom were Dutch. A more ghast- 
ly spectacle than that w^hich presented itself here I 
could not have conceived. They were ranged without 
and within the house, in rows, coveredjwith gore. In- 
deed it was the blood which they had not had time to 
wash off that made their appearance more dreadful than 
the reality ; for few of their w^ounds were mortal. The 
confusion was very great : and sentries and officers were 
so strict in their duty, that I had no fit opportunity of 
speaking to any of them, except a Dutch captain, with 
whom I conversed in French. After this, I walked out 
again with the surgeon to the field and saw several of 
the enemy's wounded. A Hottentot, who had had his 
thigh broken by a ball, was lying in extreme agony, 



CAPE OF GOOD HOPE. 1S7 

biting the dust, and uttering horrid imprecations upon 
the Dutch. I told him that he ought to pray for his 
enemies ; and after telling the poor wretched man of the 
gospel, I begged him to pray to Jesus Christ. But 
our conversation was soon interrupted : for in the absence 
of the surgeon, who was gone back for his instruments, 
a Highland soldier came up, and challenged me with 
the words, ' Who are youV ' An Englishman.' 'No,' 
said he, ' you are French,' and began to present his 
piece. As I saw that he was rather intoxicated, and 
did not know but that he might actually fire out of mere 
wantonness, I sprang up towards him, and told him, 
that if he doubted my word, he might take me as his 
prisoner to the English camp — but that I certainly w^as 
an English clergyman. This pacified him, and he be- 
haved with great respect. The surgeon, on examining 
the wound, said the man must die, and so left him. At 
length, I found an opportunity of returning, as I much 
wished, in order to recover from distraction of mind, 
and to give free scope to reflection. I lay down on the 
border of a clump of shrubs or bushes, with the field of 
battle in view; and there lifted up my soul to God. 
Mournful, as the scene was, I yet thanked God that he 
had brought me to see a specimen, though a terrible 
one, of what men by nature are. May the remembrance 
of this day ever excite me to pray and labour more for 
the propagation of the gospel of peace. Then shall 
men love one another: Nation shall not lift up sword 
against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. 
The Blue Mountains, to the eastward, which formed 
the boundary of the prospect, were a cheering contrast 
to what was immediately before me ; for there I con- 
ceived my beloved and honoured fellow-servants, com- 
panions in the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ,* 
to be passing the days of their pilgrimage, far from the 

* Missionaries of the United Brethern at Grcenekloof and Gna- 
denthal, and those belonging to the London Missionary Society 
at Bethel sdorp. 



128 OCCURRENCES AT THE 

world, imparting the truths of the precious gospel to be- 
nighted souls. May I receive grace to be a follower of 
their faith and patience : and do you pray, my brother, 
as I know that you do, that I may have a heart more 
warm, and a zeal more ardent, in this glorious cause. 
I marched back the same evening with the troops. 
The surf on the shore was very high, but, through mer- 
cy, we escaped that danger. But when we came to 
our ship's station, we found that she Was gone; hav- 
ing got under weigh some hours before. The sea ran 
high. Our men were almost spent, and I was very 
faint with hunger; but after a long struggle, we reach- 
ed the Indiaman about midnight." 

For the detail of the events which succeeded this 
most distressing day, and the incidents which occur- 
red during his continuance at the Cape, we refer to the 
journal. 

January 9th. — " Came on board early this morning. 
I was so sleepy and languid, I could do little or no- 
thing, and at night was so oppressed with a sense of my 
unprofitableness — selfishness — neglect of duty — that I 
felt shut out from God. I spread the matter before 
God, who knew the state of my case ; — still I was 
wretched from the bondage of corruption, which seem- 
ed to chain me down to earth. Lying down in my bed, 
my wretchedness was brought to my mind, and would 
have overwhelmed me, were it not for the blood of 
Jesus Christ. There was very little firing to-day. In 
the afternoon a flag of truce was observed. 

January 10th. — "I have been, through the mercy of 
God, in a more happy trame than for this week past. 
Meditation on Psalm ciii. 1 — 5, was much blest to me. 
Oh ! what happiness and benefit to my soul have I lost 
by neglecting to praise God. About five the commo- 
dore fired a gun, which was instantly answered by all 
the men-of-war. On looking out for the cause, we saw 
the British flag flying on the Dutch fort. Pleasing as 
the cessation of warfare was, I felt considerable pain 



CAPE OF GOOD HOPE. 129 

at the enemy's being obliged to give up their fort and 
town, and every thing else, as a conquered people, to 
the will of their victor. I hate the cruel pride and 
arrogance that make men boast over a conquered foe. 
And every observation of this sort which I hear cuts 
me to the very heart ; whether from nature or from grace 
I do not know ; but I had rather be trampled upon than 
be the trampler. I could find it more agreeable to my 
own feelings to go and weep with the relatives of the 
men whom the English have killed, than to rejoice at 
the laurels they have won. I had a happy season in 
prayer. No outward scene seemed to have power to 
distract my thoughts. I prayed that the capture of 
the Cape might be ordered to the advancement of 
Christ's kingdom ; and that England, whilst she sent 
the thunder of her arms to the distant regions of the 
globe, might not be proud and ungodly at home ; but 
might shew herself great indeed, by sending forth 
the ministers of her church to diffuse the gospel of 
peace. 

January 12. — Sunday. " Very unlike a Sabbath- 
day ; the whole morning, till dinner-time, was taken up- 
in working the ship from her place to a station nearer 
the shore. There were so few hands on board, that I 
was obliged to take my place at the capstan. The 
wind now blows a hurricane over Table Mountain. I 
feel myself a guilty creature. Hide not thy face from 
me, O God." 

January 13. — " Went on shore to Cape Town, and 
took lodgings. Walked about the Company's gardens, 
and General Jansen's, whose family I saw. I felt much 
for the unfortunate females. Afterwards saw the me- 
nagerie. A lion and lioness, amongst the beasts, and 
the ostrich, led my thoughts very strongly to admire 
and glorify the power of the great Creator. ' Wilt 
thou hunt the prey for the lion]' I felt my insignifi- 
cance — but for a ransomed child, the strong hand of 
God can controul all created power — SAveet and happy 



130 OCCURRENCES AT THE 

is it to have ' the everlasting arms underneath us/ 
From the first moment I arrived, I had been anxiously 
inquiring about Dr. Vanderkemp. I heard at last, to 
my no small delight, that he was now in Cape Town. 
But it was long before I could find him. At length I 
did. He was standing outside of the house, silently 
looking up at the stars. A great number of black peo- 
ple were sitting around. On my introducing myself, 
he led me in, and called for Mr. Read. I was beyond 
measure delighted at the happiness of seeing him too. 
The circumstance of meeting with these beloved and 
highly-honoured brethren, so filled me with joy and 
gratitude for the goodness of God's providence, that I 
hardly knew what to do." 

January 14. — " Continued walking with Mr. Read 
till late. He gave me a variety of curious information 
respecting the mission. He told me of his marvellous 
success amongst the Heathen — how he had heard them 
amongst the bushes pouring out their hearts to God. 
At all this my ' soul did magnify the Lord, and my 
spirit rejoiced in God my Saviour.' Now that I am 
in a land where the Spirit of God appears, as in the 
ancient days, as in the generation of old, let a double 
portion of that Spirit rest upon this unworthy head, 
that I may go forth to my work ' rejoicing like a strong 
man,' to run my race." 

January 15. — " Rose early, and obtained a serene and 
tender spirit from God." 

January 16. — " Walked withbrother Read, and was 
so charmed with his spiritual behaviour, that I fancied 
myself in company with David Brainerd. Sat at night 
in the open air, with Table Mountain before me, and 
endeavoured to meditate on Isaiah xi. 2." 

January 17. — " Had some fervour in prayer for that 
blessed charity, described 1st Cor. xiii. Walked with 
Read and continued to increase in love to him; we met 
in our walk Vanderlinger, who had been on a mission 
to the Briquas. 



CAPE OF GOOD HOPE. ISl 

January 18. — " Having- spoken in an'uncliristian spirit 
to a dear friend this morning, I retired in great grief 
to consider again 1st Cor. xiii, and Eph. iv. 5. I found 
my soul melted in prayer. Oh! when shall T learn 
humility ! Cecil dined and walked with me; — not find- 
ing the missionaries at home I returned and read Pri- 
deaux: after a short prayer I found my soul blest with 
a most serene and tranquil sweetness ; my thoughts 
seemed far from earth, and fixed on heavenly things. 

January 19. — "Sunday. The S. E. blew a hurri- 
cane all day; so I could not get to the Pitt, Botany 
Bay ship, as I had promised. I read prayers to most 
of the Cadets and Passengers in one of the parlours of 
the house, and expounded part of iv. and v. of Ephe- 
sians. — Visited the hospital with brother Read, and 
then went to a church lately built for the instruction of 
slaves. There were about one hundred, sent from 
fifty different families. A black who was employed in 
lighting the candles, 'was pointed out to me as one who 
was to go as a missionary to Madagascar," 

January 20. — '' Walking home I asked Dr. Vander- 
kemp if he had ever repented of his undertaking. No, 
said the old man, smiling; and I would not exchange 
my work for a kingdom. Read told me of some of his 
trials; — he has often been so reduced, for want of 
clothes, as scarcely to have any to cover him. The 
reasonings of his mind were: — I am here, Lord in thy 
service ; — why am I left in this state ] It seemed to be 
suggested to him — If thou wilt be my servant, be con- 
tented to fare in this way; — if not, go and fare better. 
His mind was thus satisfied to remain God's mission- 
ary, with all its concomitant hardships. At night, my 
sinful soul enjoyed a most reviving season in prayer — I 
rejoiced greatly in the Lord, and pleaded with fervour 
for the interests of his church. 

January 21. — " I sent to the governor to offer my ser- 
vices on Sunday next at the Church; — he sent an im- 
mediate answer, that he could not avail himself of my 



133 OCCURRENCES AT THK 

offer, but assigned no reason. I was a little hurt, but 
my soul enjoyed sweet repose in God." 

January 22. — " Went with Read to visit the hospital 
where the wounded English were." 

January 23. — "Went on board, the S.E. blowing most 
violently; I did not think the boat could live it out; 
— but, through the mercy of God, we shipped but one 
sea, and reached the ship in safety. Oh! may I love 
and serve him with all my soul, till I reach the blissful 
shore where storms and dangers shall be known no 
more." 

January 24. — " I came ashore and walked with Lieu- 
tenant F , and was much pleased with the senti- 
ments he expressed ; and with much affectionate re- 
gard for his welfare, I suggested to him some advice* 
At night the Lord helped me to plead long and earn- 
estly for the ingathering of the heathen." 

January 25. — " Employed in meditations on a sermon 
for to-morrow; sat with Dr. Variderkemp, conversing^ 
on metaphysics and divinity. Blessed with especial 
awfulness in prayer at night." 

January 26. — Sunday. — " Had service in the house; 
expounded on 2d Cor. v. with such dulness, that I felt 
the greatest shame before God. Walked near the sea, 
and talked to some French prisoners ; — went with Read 
to the hospital, and left some Testaments. Dear Dr. 
Vanderkemp gave me a Syriac Testament as a remem- 
brance of him." 

January 27. — " Preached at the hospital. — Many 
were in tears." 

January 28. — " I went this morning in a wagon 
drawn by eight horses, to Constantia, with a party of 
fellow-passengers, and three officers of the 66th, but it 
was no party of pleasure to me. I was disgusted at 
the conversation, which was trifling to the last degree. 
The farmer w^as very civil, and gave me some of the 
celebrated wine. The road was over a plain covered 
with beautiful shrubs ; — there being no house there that 



CAPK OF GOOD HOPK. 133 

was public, we went to one two miles off: — here I walk- 
ed on the heath alone, seeking after God. Walked 
with brother Read in the gardens, and continued to have 
much conversation on the mission; on our conversion; 
and on the work of grace in the heart. How profitable 
and heart-enlivening is conversation on experimental 
religion, when carried on without pride or display of 
great experience ! Preached at the hospital. In my 
walk home by the sea-side, I sighed on thinking of 

L , with whom I had stood on the shore before 

coming away, and of the long seas that were rolling be- 
tween us ; but felt cheerful and strong in spirit to fulfil 
the word of God." 

January 30. — "Rose at five, and began to ascend 

Table Mountain at six, with S and M ;I went 

on chiefly alone. I thought of the Christian life — what 
UDhill work it is — and yet there are streams flowing 
aow^n from the top just as there was water coming 
down by the Kloof, by which we ascended. Towards 
the top it was very steep, but the hope of being soon 
at the summit, encouraged me to ascend very lightly. 
As the Kloof opened, a beautiful flame-coloured flower 
appeared in a little green hollow, waving in the breeze. 
It seemed to be an emblem of the beauty and peaceful- 
ness of heaven, as it shall open upon the weary soul 
when its journey is finished, and the struggles of the 
death-bed are over. We walked up and down the 
whole length, which might be between two and three 
miles, and one might be said to look round the w^orld 
from this promontory. I felt a solemn awe at the 
grand prospect — from which there was neither noise 
nor small objects to draw oflfmy attention. — I reflected, 
especially when looking at the immense expanse of sea 
on the east, which was to carry me to India, on the 
certainty that the name of Christ should at some peri- 
od resound from shore to shore. I felt commanded to 
wait in silence, and see how God would bring his pro- 
mises to pass. We began to descend at half past-two. 
M 



134 OCCURRENCES AT THE 

Whilst sitting to rest myself towards night, I began 
to reflect with death-like despondency on my friendless 
condition. Not that I wanted any of the comforts of 
life, but I wanted those kind friends who loved me, 
and in whose company I used to find such delight after 
my fatigues. And then, remembering that I should 
never see them more, I felt one of those keen pangs 
of misery that occasionally shoot across my breast. It 
seemed like a dream, that I had actually undergone 
banishm-^nt from them for life ; or rather like a dream, 
that I had ever hoped to share the enjoyments of social 
life. But, at this time, I solemnly renewed my self- 
dedication to God, praying that I might receive grace 
to spend my days for his service, in continued suffer- 
ing, and separation from all I held most dear in this life. 
Amen. How vain and transitory are those pleasures 
which the worldliness of my heart will ever be magni- 
fying into real good ! — The rest of the evening, I felt 
weaned from the world and all its concerns, with some- 
what of a melancholy tranquillity." 

January 31. — '' From great fatigue of body, was in 
doubt about going to the hospital, and very unwilling 
to go. However I went, and preached with more free- 
dom than ever I had done there. Having some con- 
versation with Colonel H , I asked him ' whether, 

if the wound he had received in the late engagement 
had been mortal, his profaneness would have recurred 
with any pleasure to his mind on a death-bed.' He 
made some attempts at palliation — thoTfgh in great con- 
fusion; but bore the admonition very patiently." 

February 1. — "As yesterday evening, so to day, I 
was happy with God." 

February 2. — " Sunday. The purser of the William 
Pitt told me they were too busy to have service. Thus 
have these men contrived to prevent the word of God 
from being preached to the poor woman, each Sunday 
as it came." 



CAt>E OF GOOD HOPE. 135 

February 4. — '' Read the Scriptures without a relish 
for them; and God's presence withdrawn. How dark 
and wretched this state of the soul !" 

February 5. — " Rose early; walked out discouraged 
at the small progress I make in the Eastern languages. 
My state of bodily and mental indolence were becom- 
ing so alarming, that I struggled hard against both, 
crying to God for strength. Notwithstanding the re- 
luctance in my own heart, I went to the hospital and 
preached on Matt. xi. 28; from this time I enjoyed 
peace and happiness. Dr. Vanderkemp called to take 
leave. I accompanied him and brother Smith out of 
the town, with their two wagons. The dear old man 
showed much affection, and gave me advice, and a 
blessing at parting. While we were standing to take 
leave, Koster, a Dutch missionary, was just entering 
the town with his bundle, having been driven from 
his place of residence. Brother Read, also, appeared 
from another quarter, though we thought he had gone 
to sea. These, with Yons,* and myself, made six 
missionaries, who in a few minutes, all parted again." 

In the commencement of the voyage from the Cape, 
which took place not many days after this short but 
most interesting meeting, Mr. Martyn's patience was 
exercised, as before, by the tediousness of the pas- 
sage — by sickness — and by langour. But whether tos- 
sed on that stormy sea which roars around the Cape, 
or becalmed in the midst of the Indian ocean, or en- 
feebled by the recurrence of illness and extreme relax- 
ation, he received all with the meekest resignation, as 
the special appointment of his God. 

The violent and increasing opposition he experienced 
from many of the more intelligent part of the passen- 
gers, and the discouraging inattention he too often per- 
ceived amongst the other class of his hearers, caused 
kim to 'grieve on their account, and to humble him" 

* Probably the Missionary destined for Madagascar, 



136 FEELINGS ON Hia 

self before God." *' I go down/' he says, ** and stand 
in the midst of a few, without their taking the slight- 
est notice of me : Lord, it is for thy sake I suffer such 
slights — let me persevere notwithstanding." But though 
he mourned on their account, "he was contented to 
be left without fruit, if such were the will of God." 
Conscious of having delivered his message faith- 
fully, and trusting that, with respect to both de- 
scriptions of his auditors, he had commended himself 
to their consciences, if he had not reached their hearts, 
his own peace of mind was not affected: and he 
affirms, that he was " as happy as he could be with- 
out more grace ; enjoying " peaceful thoughts, tender 
recollections, and happy prospects." How could he 
fail of pleasantness and peace, when this was the 
genuine expression of the sentiment of his soul — " I 
am born for God only. Christ is nearer to me than 
father, or mother, or sister — a nearer relation, a more af- 
fectionate friend: and I rejoice to follow him, and to 
love him. Blessed Jesus ! thou art all I want — a fore- 
runner to me in all I ever shall go through, as a Chris- 
tian, a minister, or a missionary." 

The sickness with w^hich the ship's company had 
been affected before reaching the Cape, prevailed now 
more extensively than ever. Many fell a sacrifice to 
the disorder; and amongst others a devout soldier, 
with whom Mr. Martyn had often united in prayer and 
praise, and had often conversed on the things of eternity. 
It was a mournful satisfaction to him to^attend his Chris- 
tian brother in his last illness, and afterwards to com- 
mit his body to the deep, in certain expectation that 
the ' sea should give up her dead,' and he with him 
should enter into the joy of their Lord. " Thus," he 
says, " is my brother gone; — he, with whom I have 
conversed on divine things, and sung, and prayed, is 
entered into that glory of which we used to discourse. 
To his multiplied sorrows upon earth, he has bid an 



APPROACH TO TNDIA. 137 

everlasting adieu. May I follow liis faith and pa- 
tience, till, with him, I inherit the promises." 

Falling in with the trade-winds, the fleet made rapid 
progress towards India; and whilst the breezes wafted 
Mr. Martyn towards the destined scene of his labours, 
many a sigh did he continue to breathe under a sense 
of his own sinfulness and weakness ; and many a pe- 
tition did he pour forth for the people to whom he was 
sent. He felt it " good and suitable to walk through 
this world overwhelmed with contrition and love; — re- 
ceiving with grateful contentment every painful dis- 
pensation, because not worthy to enjoy the light of 
this world"— praying that " God would glorify himself 
by the gifts and graces of all his creatures, and make 
him take his place at the bottom of them, unnoticed, 
unknown, and forgotten."— '' Oh! when the spirit is 
pleased," said he, " to shew his creature but a few 
scattered specimens of his ungodly days— yea, of his 
godly ones— how universally and desperately wicked 
doth he appear. Oh! that I knew how to be duly 
abased ! What shall I think of myself in comparison 
of others 1 How ought I to kiss the very dust beneath 
their feet, from a consciousness of my inferiority : and 
in my thoughts of God, and his dealings with me, how 
ought I to be wrapped up in constant astonishment." — 
Th'en, after setting apart a day for fasting and humilia- 
tion, he began to pray for the setting up of God's king- 
dom in the world, especially in India; and had such 
energy and delight in prayer as he never had before 
experienced. " My whole soul," he' said, " wrestled 
with God. I knew not how to leave off crying to him, 
to fulfil his promises ; chiefly pleading his own glo- 
rious power. I do not know that any thing would be 
a heaven to me, but the service of Christ, and the en- 
joyment of his presence. O how sweet is life when 
spent in his service! I am going upon a work imme- 
diately according to the mind of Christ; and my glo- 
rious Lord, whose power is uncontrollable, can easily 
M 2 



138 HIS ARRIVAL 

open a way for his feeble follower through the thickest 
of the ranks of his enemies. And now, on let me go, 
smiling at my foes ; how small are human obstacles, 
before this mighty Lord ! How easy is it for God to 
effect his purposes in a moment. What are inveterate 
prejudices when once the Lord shall set to his hand! 
In prayer, I had a most precious view of Christ, as a 
friend that sticketh closer than a brother. O how 
sweet was it to pray to him. I hardly knew how to 
contemplate with praise enough, his adorable excel- 
lencies. Who can shew forth all his praise] I can 
conceive it to be a theme long enough for eternity. I 
want no other happiness — no other heaven." W^ith 
such holy, humble, and heavenly sentiments as these 
did Mr. Martyn approach the shores of Hindoostan; 
and, going as he w^as into the vineyard of vS. Bartho- 
lomew and Pantenus, of Ziegenbalg and Swartz, it 
was in their spirit that he prepared to enter upon his 
labours. 

On the Good Friday shortly preceding his arrival in 
India, which he passed in prayer and fasting, he re- 
presents himself as enjoying, throughout, a most bless- 
ed and serene view of Christ. The word of God 
was very sweet to him, whilst reading the account of 
the sufferings and death of Jesus. He was entirely 
withdrawn from all other concerns, and felt his soul 
cleaving to Christ, his Saviour, in tender seriousness: — 
thankful that such days had been set apart by the 
Church. " In praying that God would^no longer delay 
exerting his power in the conversion of the eastern na- 
tions, I felt emboldened," he observes, " to employ the 
most familiar petitions, by Isa. Ixii. 6, 7. Blessed be 
God for those words! They are like a cordial to my 
spirits : because, if the Lord is not pleased by me, or 
during my life time, to call the Gentiles — yet he is not 
offended at my being urgent with him, that the king- 
dom of God may come." 

On the 19th of April, Ceylon was discovered, which 



AT MADRAS. 139 

Mr. Martyn describes as presenting a long range of 
hills, running north and south, broken in a picturesque 
manner, though not lofty, with low lands between the 
hills and sea, covered with trees: and whilst the breezes 
from the island regaled his senses by their soothing 
and refreshing fragrancy, his mind w^as filled with a 
train of delightful anticipations; — he wa<^ thinking of 
the time when the name of Jesus should be as ointment 
poured forth, in temples raised by Cingalese amidst 
their cinnamon groves; — andxvhen supplications should 
there ascend, like clouds of incense, through the merits 
of the Redeemer. 

The Sunday after this, presuming that it would be 
the last, Mr. Martyn addressed the ship's company in 
a farewell discourse. The occasion, it might have 
been conceived, was such as to preclude any disposition 
to ridicule, even in men pre-eminently disposed to 
scoffing and contempt. But those who had reviled him 
at first, continued to revile him to the very last. " It 
pained me," he remarked, ''that they should give a 
ridiculous turn to any thing on so affecting an occasion 
as that of parting for ever in this life. But such is the 
unthankful office of a minister. Yet I desire to take 
the ridicule of- men with all meekness and charity, 
looking forward to another world for approbation and re- 
ward." 

And now, after a wearisome interval of above nine 
months, from the time of his leaving Portsmouth, the 
land which Mr. Martyn had so ardently longed to 
behold, appeared; on the 21st of April, 1806, "his 
eyes were gratified with the sight of India.^' 

April 22. — "At sun-rise we anchored," he says, "in 
Madras roads. Several doolbashes or interpreters came 
on board, dressed in white muslin. I went ashore in 
one of the country boats, made very high in order to 
weather the surf: w^ith the boards throughout sewed 
together very coarsely with straw, and the interstices 
filled w^ith it. On shore I was surrounded by an 



140 HIS ARRIVAL 

immense crowd of coolies, I suppose two hundred, who 
caught up one box after another, and were going off in 
different directions, so that I was obliged to run instant- 
ly, and stop them; and having with some difficulty .got - 
my things together, I went to the Custom-house, at- 
tended by four coolies, a doolbashee, an umbrella-carrier 
and a boy or waiting-man ; all of whom attached them- 
selves to me, without at all consulting me on the 
occasion. Nothing as yet struck me as remarkable in 
the country, for the novelty of it had been anticipated 
in what I had seen at St. vSalvador. The number of 
black people was immense, and the crowd of servants 
so great, that one would suppose they thought them- 
selves made for the service of the English. The 
elegance of their manners I was much taken with; but, 
in general, one thought naturally occurred; the conver- 
sion of their poor souls. I felt a solemn sort of melan- 
choly at the sight of such multitudes of idolaters. — 
While the turbaned Asiatics waited upon us at dinner, 
about a dozen of them, I could not help feeling as if we 
had got into their places. But now, that I am actually 
treading Indian ground, let me bless and adore my own 
God for doing so much for me ; and Oh ! if I live, let 
me have come hither for some purpose." 

April 26.— " Towards night, I walked out with Sa- 
mees, my servant, in a pensive mood ; and went through 
his native village, Chindaput. — Here all was Indian ; 
— no vestige of any thing European. It consisted of 
about two hundred houses — those injthe main street 
connected, and those on either side of the street sepa- 
rated from one another by little winding paths. Every 
thing presented the appearance if wretchedness. I 
thought of my future labours among them with some 
despondency ; yet I am willing, I trust, through grace, 
to pass my days among them, if by any means these 
poor people may be brought to God. The sight of men, 
women, and children, all idolaters, makes me shudder, 
as if in the dominions of the prince of darkness. I 



AT MADRAS. 141 

fancy the frown of God is visible; — there is something 
peculiarly awful in the stilness that prevails. Whe- 
ther it is the relaxing influence of the climate, or what, 
I do not know; but there is every thing here to depress 
the spirits — all nature droops." 

April 27. — Sunday. — ** Enjoyed some solemn mo- 
ments, this morning. This is my first sabbath in In- 
dia^ May all the time I pass in it he a sabbath of hea- 
venly rest and blessedness to my souli Preached on 
Luke X. 41, 42; there was attention. After dinner 
went to Black Town to Mr. Loveless's Chapel. I sat 
in the air at the '^.oor, enjoying the blessed sound of the 
gospel on an Indian shore, and joining with much com- 
fort in the song of divine praise.'^ 

April 28. — " Had much conversation with Dr. Kerr. 
At night the Portuguese -children sung "Before Jeho- 
vah's awful throne," very sweetly^ it excited a train 
of affecting thoughts in my mind* " Wide as the world 
is thy command," — and therefore it is easy for thee to 
spread abroad thy holy name. But oh, how gross the 
darkness here ! The veil of the covering cast over all 
nations seems thicker here: the fiends of darkness 
seem to sit in sullen repose in this land." 

April 30. — " Walked by moonlight, reflecting on the 
Mission. My soul was at first sore tried with despond- 
ing thoughts ; but God wonderfully assisted me to 
trust him for the wisdom of his dispensations. Truly, 
therefore, will I say again, *'Who art thou, O great 
mountain ; before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a 
plain." How easy for God to do it ; and it shall be 
done in due time; and even if I never should see a na- 
tive converted, God may design hy my patience and con- 
tinuance in the work to encourage future Missionaries, 
But what surprises me is the change of views I have 
here from what I had in England. — There, my heart 
expanded with hope and joy at the prospect of the 
«peedy conversion of the heathen ! but here, the sig^ht 



142 HIS ARRIVAL 

of the apparent impossibility requires a strong faith to 
support the spirits." 

After being detained a short time at Madras, the fleet 
sailed for the Hoogley ; during which voyage Mr. Mar- 
tyn again suffered, indescribably, from the relaxation of 
his frame. He rose in the morning with the deepest 
melancholy, and seemed, as he expressed it, left with- 
out a motive. " He looked forward to an idle, worth- 
less life, spent in India to no purpose. Exertion seem- 
ed to him like death — indeed, absolutely impossible." 
But it pleased God at length to give him deliverance, 
by enabling him to exercise faith, and to remember that, 
as a sinner saved, he was bound to evince the most 
fervent gratitude to God. 

The great Pagoda of Juggernaut, now becoming dis- 
tinctly visible, was a sight sufficient to rouse Mr. Mar- 
tyn from almost any depths of depression, either of body 
or mind. Contemplating that horrid altar of impurity 
and blood, his soul was excited to sentiments of the 
strongest commiseration for the children of v/retched In- 
dia, " who had erected such a monument of her shame 
on the coast; and whose heathenism stared the stranger 
in the face." 

Leaving Juggernaut behind, a tremendous hurricane, 
such as is often experienced in those latitudes, descend- 
ed on the fleet ; and in an instant every sail of the 
Union was rent in pieces. All was uproar in the ship ; 
nor was there any resource but to run before the gale ; 
which, had they been further on their3vay, must have 
driven them upon some sand-banks at the mouth of the 
Hoogley. Incessant lightning rendered the scene still 
more dreadful. When nature began to shrink at the 
fear of dissolution, Mr. Martyn was much reconciled, he 
says, to it, by such thoughts as these : — " What have I 
here "? Is it not better to go, and to be with Jesus, and 
to be free from this body of sin and death? But for the 
sake of the poor, unconverted souls in the ship," he 
adds, " I prayed earnestly for her preservation." 



• AT CALCUTTA. 143 

To this danger, from which Mr. Martyn was merci- 
fully delivered, another of a yet more formidable nature 
succeeded, when he had entered the mouth of the Hoog- 
ley and was rejoicing in the happy termination of an 
eventful voyage. 

On the 14th of May, the Union struck on a sand-bank 
near the diamond harbour: where her situation was 
awfully dangerous ; for night came on and the wind in- 
creased. The vessel was considered by the captain as 
lost, and all the passengers were in the utmost terror. 
Mr. Martyn " retired for prayer, and found his soul in 
peace:" nor was the fervent prayer of this righteous 
man ineffectual. After continuing in extreme peril for 
two hours, the ship very unexpectedly floated into deep 
water. Thus being yet more deeply convinced that 
in God and in his hand were all his ways, and having 
his heart humbled in thankfulness to him as the author 
of all his mercies, Mr. Martyn arrived at Calcutta : from 
whence he thus disclosed the sentiments of his heart to 
a beloved Christian friend : — 

*' My long and wearisome voyage is concluded, and I 
am at last arrived in the country in which I am to spend 
my days in the work of the Lord. Scarcely can I be- 
lieve myself to be so happy as to^be actually in India ; 
yet this hath God wrought. Through changing cli- 
mates, and tempestuous seas, he has brought on his fee- 
ble worm to the field of action; and will, I trust, speedi- 
ly equip me for my work. I am now very far from you 
all, and, as often as I look around and view the Indian 
scenery, I sigh to think of the distance that separates 
us. Time, indeed, and reflection, have, under God, con- 
tributed to make the separation less painful ; yet still 
my thoughts recur with unceasing fondness to former 
friendships, and make the duty of intercession for you 
a happy privilege. Day and night I do not cease to 
pray for you, and I am willing to hope that you also re- 
member me daily at the throne of grace. Let us not, 
by any means, forget one another; nor lose sight of the 



144 HIS RESIDKNCa 

day of our next meeting. We have little to do with th«r 
business of this world. Place and time have not that 
importance in our views that they have in those of 
others ; and therefore neither changes of situation nor 
lapse of years should weaken our Christian attachment* 
I see it to be my busines-s to fulfil as an hireling my day ; 
and then to leave the world. Amen. We shall meet 
in happier regions. I believe that those connexions, 
and comforts, and friendships, which I have heretofore 
BO desired, though they are the sweetest earthly bless- 
ings, are earthly stilU" 



CHAPTER V. 

MR. MARTYN*S ARRIVAL AT CALCUTTA RESIDEKGE AT AL- 

DEEN PREACHES AT CALCUTTA IS APPOINTED TO DINA- 

PORE LEAVES CALCUTTA JOURNAL OF HIS VOYAGE UP 

THE HOOGLEY AND GANGES. 

For many years supplications had incessantly ascend- 
ed up to heaven from Christians in India, for the spirit- 
ual prosperity of that benighted land ; and for a consi- 
derable time a stated weekly meeting had been held at 
Calcutta, on the recommendation of Dr. Buchanan and 
Mr. Brown, for the express purpose of beseeching the 
Lord to send forth labourers into those fields which were 
white unto harvest. What a manifest answer to these 
petitions was the appearance of Mr. Marty n amongst 
those who had been thus offering up their prayers ! One 
of these,* a name dear to all who admire zeal, integrity, 
liberality, and an entire consecration of the brightest 
talents to the cause of Christian philanthropy, was now 

*Dr. Buchanan. 



AT ALDEEPr. 145 

about to commence his researches into the state of reli- 
gion amongst the Syrian Christians : and the ship which 
conveyed him on that interesting errand, left the mouth 
of the Hoogley as the Union entered it. To him, doubt- 
less, the sight of Mr. Marty n would have seemed an an- 
swer to prayer, demanding the warmest thanksgiving; 
the voice of a Christian Missionary would have been 
sweeter in his ears than even those sounds which ho 
afterwards heard in Travancorc, from the bells amongst 
the hills, and which reminded him of another country. 

At Aldeen, near Calcutta, the residence of the Rev. 
David Brown, Mr. Martyn was received and welcomed 
with all that cordiality of affection which characterizes 
the genuine servants of the Lord Jesus. -, Finding in 
him a spirit eminently congenial with his own, he glad- 
ly became one of his dear family, as he expresses it, 
and his days passed delightfully. In order that he might 
enjoy as much retirement as he deemed necessary, 
Mr. Brown prepared a pagoda for his habitation ; which 
was situate on the edge of the river, at no great distance 
from the house. There the vaulted roof was so chang- 
ed from its original destination, as often to re-echo the 
voice of prayer and the songs of praise: and Mr. Mar- 
tyn triumphed and rejoiced "that the place where once 
devils were worshipped, was now become a Christian 
oratory." 

Soon after his being fixed at Aldeen, his affectionato 
friends there became seriously alarmed at an attack of 
fever which he experienced. His illness was of somia 
continuance, and in it he was assaulted by a temptation 
more dangerous than uncommon — a temptation to look 
to himself for some qualification with which to approach 
the Saviour— for something to warrant his confidence in 
him, and hope of acceptance from him. Searching for 
evidences for the purpose of ascertaining i^AefAer we are 
in Christ, widely differs from searching for them to 
warrant a boldness of access to Christ : for this we re- 
quire no evdence: but need only the passport of faith, 
N 



tiO HIS RESIDENCE 

and the plea of our own wretchedness; and as it is th^ 
design of our great adversary (such is his subtlety) to 
lead us to deny the evidences of faith altogether— so it 
is his purpose to betray us into a legal and mistaken use 
of them. We find Mr. Martyn at this time expressing 
himself thus : " I could derive no comfort from reflect- 
ing on my past life. Indeed, exactly in proportion 
as I looked for evidences of grace, I lost that broken- 
ness of spirit which I wished to retain, and could not 
lie with simplicity at the foot of the cross, I really 
thought that I was departing this life. I began to pray 
as on the verge of eternity : and the Lord was pleased 
to break my hard heart. I lay, in tears, in^tereeding 
for the unfortunate natives of this country 5 thinking with 
myself that the most despicable soodar of India was 
of as much value in the sight of God as the king of 
Great Britain." 

So pleasantly and sweetly, after his recovery, did 
the current of Mr. Martyn's days pass on at Aldeen and 
Calcutta, that he began to fear lest the agreeable soci- 
ety he met with there should induce a softness of mind, 
and an indisposition to solitude and bold exertion. Of 
this society he remarks, "I felt sometimes melancholy 
at the thought that I should soon be deprived of it. — • 
But alas ! why do I regret ill Sweet is human friend- 
ship — sweet is the communion of saints, but sweeter 
far is fellowship with God on earth and the enjoyment 
of the society of his saints in heaven." 

The city of Calcutta was a place so evidently suit- 
ed to that order of talent with which Mr. Martyn was 
endowed, that it is not to be wondered that the soli- 
citations of his Christian friends there should pour in 
upon him at this time, with the view of persuading 
him to continue amongst them in a sphere which they 
considered so well adapted for the exercise of his mi- 
nistry. But it was truly said of him by one* now be- 
fore the throne with him in the world of light — that 
*Dr. Buchanan — Christian researches. 



AT ALDEETf. 147 

••'he had a spirit to follow the steps of Brainerd and 
Swartz ;" and " to be prevented from going to the hea- 
then," he himself remarked on this occasion, '* would 
almost have broken his heart." 

In the vicinity of Aldeen, indeed, he witnessed with 
horror, the cruel rites and debasing idolatries of hea- 
thenism. The blaze of .a funeral pile caused him one 
day to hasten to endeavour, if possible, to rescue an 
unfortunate female, who was consumed, however, be- 
fore he could roach the spot. In a dark wood at no 
great distance from Serampore, he heard the sound of the 
cymbals and drums, summoning the poor natives to the 
worship of devils ; — rounds which pierced his heart. 
And before a black image placed in a pagoda, with 
lights burning around it, he beheld his fellow creatures 
prostrating themselves, with their foreheads to the 
•earth ; — a sight which he contemplated with an over- 
whelming compassion, whilst " he shivered," he says, 
•" as if standing as it were in the neighbourhood of 
iiell.'^ 

Scenes" so affecting as these, might have pleaded 
with him effectually in favour of the proposition of his 
friends, had he not remembered, tliat all these things 
happened at no great distance from Aldeea, Serampore, 
and Calcutta — from whence many a holy man of God 
had already come forth, and would again come forth, 
crying out to the wretched idolaters, " why do ye such 
things " — " behold the Lamb of God^ which taketh away 
the sin of the world." 

Detained as Mr. Martyn unavoidably was, at this 
time, from what he considered his especial employment, 
he applied himself more ardently than ever to the acqui- 
sition of Hindoostanee, availing himself of the assist- 
ance of a Cashmirian Brahmin, whom he wearied with 
his unceasing assiduity. He was also instant in preach- 
ing the gospel to his countrymen, both in the Mission 
Church, and in the New Church, in Calcutta. 

His first discourse in the New Church, on 1 Cor. u 



148 PREACHES 

23, 24, occasioned a great sensation ; of a kind very 
different, indeed, from that which he heartily desired^ 
but still one which, from the treatment to which he 
had been accustomed on board the ship, he was not 
unprepared to expect. 

The plain exhibition of the doctrines of the gospel 
was exceedingly offensive to many of his hearers. Nor 
did the ferment thus excited subside quickly, as it often 
does, into pity or contempt. He had the pain, very 
shortly after, of being personally attacked from the 
pulpit by some of his brethren, whose zeal hurried them 
into the violation not only of an express canon of the 
Church, but of the yet higher law of Christian charity ; 
and led them to make an intemperate attack upon him, 
and upon many of the truths of the gospel. Even when 

he was himself present in Church, Mr. spoke with 

sufficient plainness of him and of his doctrines, calling 
them inconsistent, extravagant, and absurd ; drawing a 
vast variety of false inferences from them, and thence 
arguing against them ; declaring, for instance, that to af» 
firm repentance to be the gift of God, and to teach that na- 
ture is wholly corrupt, was to drive men to despair : — and 
that to suppose the righteousness of Christ sufficient to 
justify, is to make it unnecessary to have any of our own. 
Though compelled to listen to such downright heresies ; 
to hear himself described as knowing neither what 
he said, nor whereof he affirmed — and as aiming only to 
gratify self-sufficiency, pride, and uncharitableness — "I 
rejoiced," said this meek and holy man^^'to receive the 
sacrament of the Lord's supper afterwards : — as the 
solemnities of that blessed ordinance sweetly tended to 
sooth any asperity of mind ; and I think that I adminis- 

'tered the cup to and .with sincere good will." 

When exposed to a similar invective from another 
preacher, who commenced a public opposition to him, 
by denouncing his last sermon, in particular, as a 
rhapsody — as unintelligible jargon — as an enigma; 
— declaring that the epistles of St. Paul were ad* 



AT CALCUTTA. 149 

Pressed to heathens alone, and that if the apostle could 
look down from heaven and see what use was made of 
his words to distress and agitate the minds of men, he 
would grieve at such perversions ; and who, in addition 
to this, pointedly addressed Mr. Martyn, and charged 
him with the guilt of distressing and destroying those 
for whom Christ died — with taking away their only hope, 
and driving them to mopishness, melancholy, and de- 
spair — and finally, with depriving them of the only con- 
solation they could have on a death-bed; — he again ob- 
serves, " we received the sacrament of the Lord's Sup- 
per, and I was glad of the blessed ordinance, as it 
tended much to compose my mind and to soften it in com- 
passion and love towards all mankind." 

But if Mr. Martyn had abundant reason to be grieved 
and pained at the conduct of some of his brethren at Cal- 
cutta, he had no small satisfaction in the wise and tem- 
perate line pursued by another chaplain, in this season 
of doubtful and distressing disputation ; who, perceiving 
that the doctrines of the Church of England were be- 
coming a matter of warm and general controversy, adopt- 
ed the admirable plan of simply reading the Homilies 
to the congregation ; — thus leaving the Church to speak 
authoritatively for herself; and affording to all classes 
an opportunity of deciding which of the parties was 
most in accordance with her incomparable formula- 
ries — Mr« Martyn or his opposers. '' Mr. ," he 

says, " to the great satisfaction of all serious people, 
after stating the diversity of opinion which had lately 
prevailed in the pulpit, began to read a Homily by way 
of sermon: " and again, " at the New Church, I read, 

and Mr. preached the second and third parts of the 

** Homily on Salvation.' The clear exhibition of divine 
truth which w^as thus presented, was very rejoicing to 
our hearts." 

Attached, as Mr. Martyn was, to the Church of Eng- 
land, he was far from either the apathy or the jealousy 
in which too many are apt to indulge, respecting the 
N 3 



150 IS APPOINTED TO DINAPORB. 

interests of other Christian communities. Very de- 
cidedly did he differ in some important points from the 
Baptists. But it was with the sincerest grief that he 
heard, during his abode at Aldecn of an order issued by 
the government (though it proved afterwards that he was 
misinformed) to prevent their preaching and distri- 
buting tracts. So perplexed and excited was he by 
the intelligence, that it even deprived him of sleep ; and 
he spoke afterwards with so much vehemence against 
the measures of government, as, upon reflection, to afford 
him matter of self-condemnation. " I know not," he 
said, *' what manner of spirit I am of; I fancy it is all 
zeal for God; but what a falsehood is this? I am se- 
vere against a governor, not making allowances for what 
he knows. Oh ! does it become me to be judging 
others? Did Jesus canvass the proceedings of govern- 
ment in the spirit of one of this world ? I pray to be pre- 
served from ever falling into this snare again. May I with 
poverty of spirit, go on my way ; and never again trouble 
myself with what does not belong to me ! I trust I shall 
be able to distinguish between zeal and self-will. Let 
me never fancy I have zeal, till my heart overflows with 
love to every man living." 

On the 13th of September, 1806, Mr. Martyn re- 
ceived his appointment to Dinapore ; by which time, 
notwithstanding all his vigilance, the comforts of the 
life he had been leading had so far won upon him, 
that he^ suffered much at the thoughts of his removal. 
•* It is an awful and an arduous thing^' said he, " to 
root out every affection for earthly things, so as to live 
for another world. I was astonished at the attachment 
I felt for earthly things. The happiness of invisible 
and eternal things seemed something like a dream; 
the faint remains of what I had formerly known. In 
great melancholy, I determined before God, to leave 
this wretched world once more ; but my soul was 
greatly cast down. The affections were entwined 
around something or other here; so that it appeared 



LEAVES ALDEEN FOR DINAPORE. 161 

like death to be torn from it." So far, however, was 
he from yielding to selfishness or sloth, that, as the 
day of his departure drew near, he stirred himself up 
to the consideration of the greatness of his calling and 
panted to begin his work. 

At the beginning of October, Mr. Martyn prepared 
to leave that Christian family, in the bosom of which 
he had received such unremitted kindness; but not be* 
fore he had welcomed the joyful arrival of two fellow- 
labourers from England; who, following his bright 
track, and imitating his self-denying example, had turn- 
ed their backs on the beloved land of their nativity. 
This was an inexpressible joy to his heart. *'I went 
down," (he says in his journal,) " to Calcutta, where 
we had the happiness of meeting our dear brethren. 
I rode out with them in the evening, and passed most 
of the time in conversing about European friends." 
And when, afterwards, he heard one of them (Mr. Cor- 
rie) preach, he thus expresses himself: " God be 
praised for another witness to his truth. O may 
abundant grace and gifts rest on my beloved brother; 
that the works of God may shew themselves forth in 
him." By these various circumstances, together with 
the letters which at the same time he received from 
those to whom he was so attached in England, his af- 
fections of love and joy were excited to such a degree, 
as to prove almost too much for his frame. 

A few days before he left Aldeen, several of Mr. 
Martyn's friends came together to his pagoda, in order 
that they might unite with him in imploring a blessing 
on his intended labours. Such a meeting could not 
fail of being highly interesting, and it was not the less 
so from a recollection of the place in which they were 
assembled: — a Christian congregation, in a building 
which once had been an idol temple, seemed to supply 
a consolatory pledge, as well as a significant emblem, 
of what all earnestly prayed for, and confidently anti- 
cipated, for poor idolatrous India. *' My soul," said 



159 LEAVES ALDEEN FOR DINAPORK. 

Mr. Martyn, "never yet had such divine enjoyment. 
I felt a desire to break from the body, and join the high 
praises of the saints above. May I go ' in the strength 
of this, many days.' — Amen. * My soul doth magnify 
the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Sa- 
viour.' How sweet to walk with Jesus — to love him — 
and to die for him. ' Surely goodness and mercy shall 
follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in 
the house of the Lord for ever.' " And again, the 
next day, he says, " The blessed God has again visited 
my soul in his power, and all that was within me 
blessed his holy name. I found my heaven begun on 
earth. No work so sweet as that of praying, and liv- 
ing wholly to the service of God." 

On the 15th October, after taking leave of the 
Church at Calcutta in a farewell discourse, and of the 
family at Aldeen, in an exposition at morning worship, 
Mr. Martyn entered his budgerow,* which was to con- 
vey him to Dinapore: and sailed up the Ganges, ac- 
companied by his brethren, Mr. Brown, Mr. Corrie, 
and Mr. Parsons. Mr. Marshman,f seeing them pass 
by the Mission house, could not resist joining the 
party ; and after going a little way, left them with 
prayer. At night Mr. Martyn prayed with his breth- 
ren in the vessel; and the next day they devoted the 
whole morning to religious exercises. " How sweet 
is prayer," said he, " to my soul at this time. I seem as 
if I could never be tired, not only of spiritual joys, but 
of spiritual employments, since these are now the 
same." 

The day after, the weather becoming tempestuous, his 
brethren sorrowfully and reluctantly left him to prose- 

* A budgerow is ** a ti'aveHhig boat constructed like a pleasure 
bai'ge. Some have cabins fourteen feet wide, and prop ortionably 
long, and draw from four to five feet of water. From seventeen 
to twenty miles a day is the gi*eatest distance a large budgerow can 
be towed against the stream dui'ing tlie fair season." — Rennel, 

t One of the Baptist Missionai-ies, 



JOURNAL OF HIS VOYAGE TO DINAPORE. 153 

cute his voyage alone. Before they parted, however, 
they spent the whole morning (to use his own words) 
in a divine ordinance, in which each of them read a 
portion of Scripture, and all of them sang and prayed. 
'* Mr. Brown's passage, chosen from the 1st of Joshua, 
was very suitable," said Mr. Martyn, ' Have I not sent 
thee;' — "Let this be an answer to my fears, O my 
Lord, and an assurance that I am in thy work ; and that 
therefore I shall not go forth at my own charges, or light 
any enemies but thine. It was a very affecting season 
to me; — but in prayer I was far from a state of serious- 
ness and affection." 

"I was left alone," he writes, October 17, in hia 
journal, " for the first time with none but natives. The 
wind and rain became so violent,* that the men let the 
budgerow stay upcn the shore the whole day; and, in 
consequence of beating on the ground, it leaked so 
much that the men were obliged to be in my cabin to 
bale her. Read with the Moonshee one of the tracts 
which he had himself translated from the Bengalee into 
verse. Perceiving him to be alarmed at the violence 
of the waves beating against the boat, I began to talk 
to him about religion. He began by saying, ' May 
God be our protector' — this was a favourable begin- 
ning. The hurricane abated before midnight, through 
mercy." 

Oct. 18. — " Reading hard all day; — wrote out a list 
of the errata in one of the tracts, and read Sanscrit gram- 
mar. In the evening, walked along the bank with my 
gun, and fired at some wild fowl, which the servants 
ate. At night, read part of a Nagree tract with the 
Moonshee. Learnt some Arabic roots. Felt an occa- 
sional depression of spirits; but prayer instantly re- 

* "The Nortli-westers are the most formidable enemies that 
ai»e to be met willi in this inland navigation — wliole fleets of 
trading boats have been sunk by them almost instantaneously. 
But it IS in tlie gi'cat rivers alone, when increased in width, that 
Ihey are the most formidable. " — Rennel. 



154 JOURNAL OF H13 

moved it; so that, in general, I was near to God and 
happy-" 

Oct. 10,»'-Sunday. " The first solitary sabbath spent 
amongst the heathen : but my soul not forsaken of God. 
The prayers of my dear friends were instant for me this 
day, I well perceive : and a great part of my prayer 
was occupied in delightful intercession for them. The 
account of the fall of man, in the third chapter of Ge- 
nesis, and of his restoration by Christ, was unspeaka- 
bly affecting to my soul. Indeed every thing I read 
eeemed to be carried home to my soul with ineffable 
sweetness and power by the Spirit; and all that was 
within me blessed His holy name. In the afternoon, 
fient to the Moonshee, that he might hear the gospel 
read or read it himself. Began St. Mark; — but our 
conversation turning from Christianity to Mahomme- 
danism, became deadening to my spirit. Our course 
to-day w^as along the eastern bank; which seems to 
have been lately the bed of the river, and is bare of 
trees for a considerable distance from the water. The 
western bank is covered with wood. In my evening 
walk saw three skeletons." 

Oct. 20. — Employed all the day in translating the 
first chapter of the Acts into Hindoostanee. I did it 
with some care; and wrote it all out in the Persian 
character ; yet still I am surprised I do so little. In my 
morning walk shot a bird with a beautiful plumage, 
called a Culean ; and, in the evening, a large bird, call- 
ed a Minca. — Putting my gun into the Iboat, I walked 
into the village where the boat stopped for the night ; 
and found the worshippers of Cali by the sound of their 
drums and cymbals. I did not think of speaking to 
them, on account of their being Bengalees. But being 
invited by the Brahmins to walk in, I entered within 
the railing, and asked a few questions about the idol. 
The Brahmin, who spoke bad Hindoostanee, disputed 
with great heat, and his tongue ran faster than I could 
fpljpw; and the people, who were about one hundredi 



VOYAGE TO DlNAPaRE. tB§ 

shouted applause. But I continued to ask my questioner, 
without making any remarks upon the answers. I 
asked, among other things, whether what 1 had heard of 
Vishnu and Bramha was true; which he confessed. 
I forebore to press him with the consequences, which 
he seemed to feel; and then I told him what was my 
belief. The man grew quite mild, and said it was chula 
bat (good words) ; and asked me seriously, at last, 
what I thought — " was idol-worship true or false V I 
felt it a matter of thankfulness that I could make known 
the truth of God, though but a stammerer ; and that 
I had declared it in the presence of the devjl. And 
this also I learnt, that the power of gentleness is irre- 
sistible. I never was more astonished than at the 
change in deportment of this hot-headed Brahmin. 
Read the Sanscrit grammar till bed-time." 

Oct 21. — ''Morning at Sanscrit, without gaining 
any ground. Afternoon, with my Moonshee, correcting 
Acts i. ; and felt a little discouraged at finding I still 
wrote so incorrectly ; though much pleased at this great 
apparent desire of having it perfectly accurate. Though 
not joyful in my spirit, as when my friends left me, I 
feel my God to be an all-satisfying portion ; and find 
no want of friends. Read Genesis and Luke ; — at night, 
in the Septuagint and Hindoostanee. Came to at a 
desert place on the western bank." 

Oct. 22. — '' Shot a bird somewhat larger than a wood- 
cock, but like it in taste ; and a snipe. — the Musalchee, 
who attended me, seeing an old man who had caught 
some fish, made a requisition of them. The old man 
understood the Musalchee's meaning better than I did ; 
for he began to entreat me, saying, "he was a poor 
man," and was quite overjoyed to find that I had not 
given an order to plunder him, but meant to pay. I 
then recollected what Mr. Brown told me, of the cusisom 
the servants have of making requisitions from the na- 
tives in the name of their English masters. Alas! 
poor natives — how accustomed they are to injustice. 



Ifif JOURNAL OF RI8 

They cannot believe their English masters to be better 
than their Mahometan ones." 

" A Brahmin of my own age was performing his de- 
votions to Gunga early this morning, when I was going 
to prayer. My soul was struck with the sovereignty 
of God, who, out of pure grace, had made such a dif- 
ference in all the external circumstances of our lives. 
O let not that man's earnestness rise up in judgment 
against me at the last day. — In the afternoon, they were 
performing the ceremony of throwing the effigies of 
Cali, collected from several villages, into the river. 
In addition to theu&ual music, there were trumpets. The 
objects of worship, which were figures in relief on the 
Sector of a circle of about one hundred and twenty de- 
grees, most gorgeously bedecked with tinsel, were kept 
Tinder a little awning in their respective boats. 'As the 
budgerow passed through the boats, they turned so as 
to present the front of their goddess to me; and, at the 
same time, blew a blast with their trumpet, evidently 
intending to gratify me with a sight of what appeared 
to them so fine. Had their employment been less im- 
pious, I should have returned the compliment by look- 
ing, but I turned away. Yet I felt no tenderness of 
grief; nor in the morning did I feel any thing like due 
thankfulness for God's electing mercy, in making me 
thus to differ from the Brahmins. I have daily and 
hourly proofs of my corruption : for when does my 
heart come up to what my half-enlightened understand- 
ing approves? Yet I intend, through grace, to con- 
tinue praying to the end for their poor precious souls, 
and that the kingdom of God may be set up here." 

*' Came-to on the eastern bank, below a village call- 
ed Ahgadeep. Wherever I walked the women fled at 
the sight of me. Some men were sitting under the shed 
dedicated to their goddess ; and a lamp was burning in 
her place. A conversation soon began; but there was 
no one who could speak Hindoostanee; so all I could 
say was by the medium of my Mussulman Musalchee. 



VOYAGE TO DINAPORE. 167 

They said that they only did as others did; and that, 
if they were wronj^, then all Bengal was wrong. I felt 
love for their souls, and longed for utterance to declare 
unto those poor simple people the holy gospel. I think 
that when my mouth is opened, I shall preach to them 
day and night. I feel that they are my brethren in the 
flesh; — precisely on a level with myself." 

" In the morning upon Sanscrit, though still quite 
in the dark. Afternoon with the Moonshee." 

Oct. 23. — "The tow-rope broke, and we were hurried 
down the stream with great rapidity ; the stream run- 
ning seven miles an hour. We ran foul of several 
large boats; and I expected we should go to pieces. 
The people of the other boats would not afford the least 
help; so the Mangee and his assistant jumped over- 
board with a rope, and succeeded in getting ashore, but 
were unable to stop her till she ran foul of another, 
which was made fast. Came-to at night on the east- 
ern bank. A delightful season to me, on account of the 
serenity of my mind, and of my happy and solemn re- 
flections on the grace of my God towards his poor crea- 
ture." 

'* I thought at night more than usual of my dear 

L . But the more 1 exaggerate these ideal joys, the 

more do I treasure up subjects of woe. O what va- 
nity has God written upon all things under the sun." 
— " As I returned late I passed between the river and 
a party of jackalls ; they kept at a little distance till 
we were passed." 

October 25. — " Passed the morning in writing out of 
the rules of Sundhi. Had a very solemn season of 
prayer, by the favour of God, over some of the chapters 
of Genesis; butespecially at the conclusion of thell9th 
Psalm. O that these holy resolutions and pious breath- 
ings were entirely my own ! Adored be the never fail- 
ing mercy of God ! He has made my happiness to de- 
pend, not on the uncertain connexions of this life, but 
upon his own most blessed self — a portion that never 
O 



158 JOURNAL OF HIS 

faileth — Came-to on the eastern bank. The opposite 
side \Vas very romantic — adorned with a stately range 
of very high forest trees, whose deep dark shade seemed 
impenetrable to the light. — In my evening walk enjoy- 
ed great solemnity of feeling, in the view of the world 
as a mere wilderness, through which the children of 
God are passing to a better country. It was a comfort- 
ing and a solemn thought, and was unspeakably interest- 
ing to me at the time — that God knew whereabouts his 
people were in the wilderness, and was supplying them 
with just what they wanted." 

" On my return towards the boat, I saw a wuld-boar, 
of a very large size, galloping parallel to the river 
I had not a gun with me, or I might have killed him, 
as he was within reach of a fusee ball. — In my budgerow 
found great delight in Hart's Hymns at night." 

October 26 . — Sunday. " Passed this Lord's day 
with great comfort, and much solemnity of soul. Glory 
to God for his grace ! Reading the Scriptures and prayer 
took up the first part of the day. Almost every chapter 
I read was blest to my soul — particularly the last chap- 
ter of Isaiah ; ' It shall come, that I will gather all na- 
tions and tongues; and they shall come, and see my 
glory,' &c. Rejoice, my soul, in the sure promises of 
Jehovah. How happy am I, when, in preparing for 
the work of declaring his glory among the Gentiles, I 
think, that many of the Lord's saints have been this 
day remembering their unworthy friend. I felt as if 
I could never be tired with prayer. In— the afternoon, 
read one of Gilbert's French Sermons — Bates on Death 
— and some of the Nagree Gospels. In the evening, 
we came-to on the eastern bank. I walked into a 
neighbouring village, wuth some tracts. The children 
ran away in great terror; and though there were some 
men here and there, I found no opportunity or encourage- 
ment to try if there were any that could speak Hin- 
doostanee ; however, I felt vexed with myself for not 
taking more pains to do them good. Alas I while Satan 



VOYAGE TO DINAPORE. 159 

is destroying their souls, does it become the servants 
of God to be lukewarm'? At night, read the third and 
fourth chapters of the Acts, and lost much time and 
spirituality by indulging ideas of schemes about the 
gospel, which had more of romance and pride in them 
than of wisdom and humiliation." 

Oct. 27. — '* Arrived at Berhampore. In the evening, 
w^alked out to see the cantonments at the hospital, in 
which there were one hundred and fifty European sol- 
diers sick. I was talking to a man, said to be dying, 
when a surgeon entered. I went up, and made some 
apology for entering the hospital. It was my old school- 
fellow and townsman, . The remainder of the 

evening he spent with me in my budgerow. He pressed 
me much to stay longer with him, which I refused; 
but afterwards, on reflection, I thought it my duty to 
stay a little longer; thinking I might have an oppor- 
tunity of preaching to the soldiers." 

October 28. — " Rose very early, and was at the hos- 
pital at day -light. Waited there a long time, wandering 
up and down the wards, in hopes of inducing the men 
to get up and assemble ; but it was in vain. I left 
three books with them ; and went away amidst the 
sneers and titters of the common soldiers. Certainly 
it is one of the greatest crosses I am called to bear, to 
take pains to make people hear me. It is such a strug- 
gle between a sense of propriety and modesty, on the 
one hand, and a sense of duty, on the other, that I find 
nothing equal to it. I could force my way any w^here, 
in order to introduce a brother minister: but for my- 
self, I act with hesitation and pain. Mr. promised 

to ask the head surgeon's permission for me to preach, 
and appointed the hour at which I should come. I went 
there ; but, after w^aiting two hours, was told that the 
surgeon was gone without being spoken to — and many 
other excuses were made. So, as it was now the heat 
of the day, I saw it was of no use to make any more 
attempts ; and therefore I went on my way. At night. 



160 JOURNAL OF HIS 

from mere thoughtlessness, went on shore without tracts, 
and lost a better opportunity than I have yet had of dis- 
tributing them among the people. My soul was dread- 
fully wounded at the recollection of it ; and O may the 
conviction of my wickedness rest upon my soul all my 
days ! How many souls will rise up in judgment 
against me at the last day, God only knows. The 
Lord forgive my guilty soul — deliver me from blood- 
guiltiness — and make me to remember for what purpose 
I came hither !" 

October 29. — " Passed Cossim Buzar and Moorshe- 
idabad, in the middle of the day ; and so my resolutions 
of repairing my past negligence were defeated, for we 
stopped at night where there was not a house. I talked 
with a party of boatmen ; and begged them to take a 
tract ; but I could' not prevail upon them. Though 
they were Rajemahl people, I could scarcely understand 
them, or th^y me, at alL I am grieved, and disap- 
pointed, and ashamed, at my extraordinary backward- 
ness in the language ; but I hope not to be discouraged- 
Employed the whole day in translating Acts, chap, ii- 
and correcting it with my Moonshee." 

Oct. 30. — " Employed the whole day as yesterday, 
about the same chapter. Read also the Ramayuna^ 
and Sale's Introduction to the Koran. My views en- 
large rapidly respecting the state of things among the 
Hindoos and Mahometans. — My soul was in a most 
awful state of impression ; Satan was at work, and my 
soul found safety only in holding by^God as a child 
clings to the neck of its mother. Thanks be to God 
that I have the witness in myself. ' The anointing, 
which ye have received of him, abideth in you, and ye 
need not that any man teach you, but as the same 
anointing teacheth you of all things,' &c. O how re- 
freshing and supporting to my soul was the holiness of 
the word of God ; — sweeter than the sweetest promise, 
at this time, was the constant and manifest tendency 
of the word, to lead men to holiness and the deepest se- 



VOYAGE TO DINAPORE. 161 

riousness. What a contrast is it to the mock majesty 
of the Koran, and the trifling, indecent stuff of the Ra- 
mayuna. My whole soul seems, at present, engrossed 
ill the work of being the messenger of truth ; and, at 
every season of prayer, I found a peculiar tenderness in 
praying for those unenlightened people." 

October 31. — '' Passed a very populous village called 
Jungipore." 

" Stopped at night again in a desert place. — Em- 
ployed as yesterday. My Moonshee said, " How can 
you prove this book (putting his hand on the gospel) 
to be the word of God]" I took him to walk with 
me on the shore, that we might discuss the matter ; and 
the result of our conversation was, that I discovered 
that the Mussulmen allow the gospel to be, in general, 
the command of God, though the words of it are not His 
as the words of the Koran are; and contend that the actual 
words of God given to Jesus were burnt by the Jews; — 
that they also admit the New Testament to' have been 
in force till the coming of Mahomet. When I quoted some 
passages which proved the Christian dispensation to be 
the final one, he allowed it to be inconsistent with the 
divinity of the Koran, but said, " then those words of 
the gospel must be false*" The man argued and asked 
his questions seemingly in earnest ; and another new 
impression was left upon my mind : namely, that these 
men are not fools, and that all ingenuity and clearness 
of reasoning are not confined to England and Europe. 
I seem to feel that these decendants of Ham are as dear 
to God as the haughty sons of Japheth; I feel, too, 
more at home with the Scriptures than ever : every thing 
I see gives light to, and receives it from, the Scriptures. 
I seem transported back to the ancient times of the 
Israelites and the apostles." 

" My spirit felt composed, after the dispute, by simply 

looking to God as one who had engaged to support his 

own cause : and I saw it to be my part to pursue my 

way through the wilderness of this world, looking only 

o2 



162 JOURNAL OF HIS 

to that redemption which daily draweth nigh. The 
same thoughts continued through the evening. 1 reflect- 
ed, while looking at the stream gliding by, the smooth 
current of which showed its motion only by the moon 
shining upon it — that all are alike carried down the stream 
of time — that in a few years there will be another gene- 
ration of Hindoos, Mussulmen, and English in this 
country: and we are now but just speaking to each 
other as we are passing along. How should this con- 
sideration quell the tumult of anger and impatience, 
when I cannot convince men. — O how feeble an instru- 
ment must a creature so short-sighted be. How ne- 
cessary is it that God should be continually raising up 
new instruments; and how easily can he do it; — "the 
government is on his shoulders," Jesus is able to bear 
the weight of it; therefore we need not be oppressed 
with care or fear: but a missionary is apt to fancy himself 
an Atlas." 

November 1. — "Employed all day in translating the 
third chapter of the Acts. Came-to at a place where 
there was no house. For the first time since arriving 
in Bengal saw some hills appearing in the N. W." 

Nov. 2. — Sunday. " My mind was greatly oppress- 
ed, that I had done and was doing nothing in the way 
of distributing tracts. To free my conscience from the 
charge of unprofitableness and neglect, I wished to go 
ashore in the middle of the day, wherever I thought I 
might meet people: but did not land till we came-to on 
the bank of the Ganges, which we enteredjust before sun- 
set. Hills appeared from S. W. to N. W. Some of 
these were the Rajemahl hills. Walking on shore, I met 
with a very large party : and entering into conversation, 
I asked if any of them could read. One young man, 
who seemed superior in rank to the rest, said he could, 
and accordingly read some of the only Nagree tract that 
I had. I then addressed myself boldly to them, and 
told them of the gospel. When speaking of the inefK- 
cacy of the religious practices of the Hindoos, I men- 



VOYAGE TO DINAPORE. 163 

tioned as an example, the repetition of the name of Ram. 
The young man assented to this; and said '* of what 
use is it]" As he seemed to be of a pensive turn, and 
said this w^ith marks of disgust, I gave him a Nagree 
Testament — the first I have given. May God's bless- 
ing go along with it, and cause the eyes of multitudes 
to be opened] The men said they should be glad to re- 
ceive tracts : so I s^nt them back a considerable num- 
ber by the young man. The idea of printing the Para- 
bles, in proper order, with a short explanation subjoined 
to each, for the purpose of distribution, and as school- 
books, suggested itself to me to-night, and delighted me 
prodigiously." 

Nov. 3. — '' Crossed the river, in order to get to Chan- 
dry. But the wind growing very strong, we were oblig- 
ed to come-to by a sand bank. Began my work by 
writing a few remarks on one of the Parables. Finish- 
ed *' Sale's Preliminary Discourse to the Koran," and 
read the Ramayuna. Arrived at Chandry, and found 

and ; walked with them over some of the ruins 

of Gour ; a mosque, which was still standing entire, 
was indeed worth seeing. We observed several mon- 
kies, and the print of a tiger's foot." 

Nov. 4. — " After officiating at morning worship, I 
went up with my friends in a boat to Gomalty ; stop- 
ping by the way to visit one of their schools at Mirdy- 
pore,* which much delighted me. The little boys, seat- 
ed cross-legged on the ground all around the room, read 
some of the New Testament to us. While they dis- 
played their powers of reading, their fathers and mo- 
thers crowded in great numbers round the doors." 

Nov. 5. " Received letters from Mr. Brown, Corrie, 
and Parsons, which much revived me. At evening 
worship, discoursed from Isaiah Ixiii. 1. My soul con- 
tinued sweetly engaged with God ; though the praises 

• Here are thirteen or foui'teen village schools ; and, in conse- 
quence, ft marked progress in ciAnlization. 



164 JOURNAL OF HIS 

of the people of Calcutta were in some degree an in- 
terruption of that sweet peace, which is only to be 
found in being nothing before God." 

Nov. 7. — " This morning, after speaking on Acts xx, 
32, I took my leave ; and with Mr. went in pa- 
lanquins to Massamgung. Frequently cast down to-day. 
From want of diligent employment, my thoughts had 
time to wander in search of some earthly good ; but 
I found that recollection of what 1 deserved at the 
hands of God restored me to greater peace." 

Nov. 8. — " Early this morning reached Rajemahl, 
and walked to view the remains of its ancient splendour. 
Gave a tract or two to a Brahmin ; but the Dak Moon- 
shee, a Mussulman, when he received one of the Hin- 
doostanee tracts, and found what it was, was greatly 
alarmed : and after many awkward apologies, returned 
it, saying that *' a man who had his legs in two dif- 
ferent boats, was in danger of sinking between them." 
Went on, much discouraged at the suspicion and re- 
buffs I met with — or rather pained ; for I feel not the 
less determined to use every effort to give the people 
the gospel. Oh ! that the Lord would pour out upon 
them a spirit of deep concern for their souls ! In a 
walk, at Rejemahl, met some of the hill people. Wrote 
down from their mouth some of the names of things. 
From their appearance, they seemed connected with 
the Hottentots and Chinese. Passed the day in cor- 
recting Acts, chap, iii., with the Moonshee. At night 
walked with Mr. G. into a village,^where we met with 
some more of the hill people. With one of them, who 
was a Manghee, or chief of one of the hills, 1 had 
some conversation in Hindoostanee ; and told him that 
wicked men after death go to a place of fire ; and 
good men, above, to God. The former struck him ex- 
ceedingly. He asked again, ' What T do they go to 
a place of great pain and fire V These people, he said, 
sacrifice oxen, goats, pigeons, &c. I asked him if he 
knew what this was for, and then explained the design of 



VOYAGE TO DINAPORE. 165 

sacrifices; and told him of the great sacrifice — but he 
did not seem to understand me, and appeared pensive, 
after hearing- that wicked men go hell. He asked us, 
with great kindness, to have some of his wild honey; 
which was the only thing he had to offer. How sur- 
prising is the universal prevalence of sacrifices ! This 
circumstance will, perhaps, be made use of for the uni- 
versal conversion of the nations. How desirable that 
some missionary should go among these people! 
— No prejudices ; none of the detestable pride and self- 
righteousness of their neighbours in the plains." 

Nov. 9. — " Passed the sabbath rather uncomfortably. 

With Mr. , I read several portions of the sacred 

Scriptures, and prayed in the afternoon. We reached 
Sicly gully, a point where the Rajemahl hills jut out 
into the Ganges. It was a romantic spot. We went 
ashore, and ascended an eminence to look at the ruins 
of a mosque. The grave, and room over it, of a Mus- 
sulman warrior, killed in battle, were in perfect 
preservation: and lamps are still lighted there every 
night. We saw a few more of the hill people; one of 
whom had a bow and arrows ; they were in a hurry to 
be gone; and went oflf, men, women, and children, into 
their native woods. As I was entering the boat, I 
happened to touch with my stick the brass pot of one 
of the Hindoos, in which rice was boiling. So defiled 
aie we in their sight, that the pollution passed from my 
hand, through the stick and the brass, to the meat. 
He rose and threw it all away. — We read together at 
night an excellent sermon on 2 Cor. v. 1." 

Nov. 10. — *' Employed almost all the day in finish- 
ing the correction of the third of the Acts, with my 
Moonshee; and in writing on some of the Parables. 

Went on the north side of the river, and set Mr. G 

ashore; walked with him to a nulla, expecting to find 
his boat ; but it not being there, we were obliged to 
walk back by night. Happily we procured a torch in 
a village near, and were thus preserved from the wild 



166 JOURNAL OF HIS 

buffaloes, whose recent footsteps in the path gave us 
no small alarm. I am constantly preserved throug-h 
the good providence of the Lord. Employed in les- 
sons of Persian, writing and reading the Ramayuna." 

Nov. 11. — ^" This morning, after prayer, Mr. G 

took his leave. I returned to my work without inter- 
ruption, and with no small delight. The thought oc- 
curred to my mind very strongly — how much have I to 
learn of divine things — if the Lord will be pleased to 
teach me. 1 want above all, a meek, serious, resigned, 
Christ-like spirit. May I have grace to live above 
every human motive ; simply with God, and to God ; 
and not swayed, especially in the missionary work, by 
the opinions of people not acquainted with the state of 
things, whose judgment may be contrary to my own. 
But it is a matter of no small difficulty to keep one's 
eye from wandering to the church in Calcutta and in 
England." 

Nov. 12. — " Employed all the day in translfiting, in 
which work the time passes away pleasantly .and ra- 
pidly. The cold mornings and evenings begin to be very 
severe. Though the thermometer was only down to 
•61°, I should have been glad of a fire. It vras 81® 
in the middle of the day. We passed this day out of 
Bengal into Bahar." 

Nov. 13. — " This morning we passed Colgong. I 
went ashore and had a long conversation with two men. 
As I approached more and more to religion, they were 
the more astonished ; and when I mentioned the day of 
judgment, they looked at each other in the utmost won- 
der, with a look that expressed, ' how should he know 
any thing about that.' I felt some satisfaction in find- 
ing myself pretty well understood in what I said : but 
they could not read : and no people came near us, and 
so I had the grief of leaving this place without sup- 
plying it with one rzy of light. I w^as much burden- 
ed with a consciousness of blood-guiltiness ; and 
though I cannot doubt of my pardon by the blood of 



VOYAGE TO DINAPORE. 107 

Christ, how dreadful the reflection, that any should 
perish who might have been saved by my exertions. 
Looking round this country, and reflecting upon it8 
state, is enough to overwhelm the mind of a minister 
or missionary. When once my mouth is opened, how 
shall I ever dare to be silent ] Employed as yester- 
day. At night met some boatmen on the bank, and 
a Fakir with them : I talked a good deal, and some 
things they understood. The Fakir's words I could 
scarcely understand. As he said he could read and pro- 
mised to read a Testament, I gave him one, and seve- 
ral tracts." 

Nov. 14. — " Employed in writing out the Parables. 
Walked through a poor village in the evening, where 
there were none but women and children, who all ran 
away when they saw me, except one poor old woman 
who was ill, and begged. Though she spoke clearly 
enough, I could scarcely understand one of her words, 
so that I have quite a new language to learn. When 
she received half a rupee, she was mute with asto- 
nishment for a time, and at last said, Chula (good). 
The name of the place was Nuckanpour." 

Nov. 15. — " Morning spent on the Parables. After- 
wards with the Moonshee, correcting Acts iv. The 
boat stopping in the afternoon a short time, I went in- 
to a village ; and finding a genteel looking Hindoo, 
smoking his hookah, I sat down with him and a few 
people gathered round. But the old man, who had 
been a soldier, talked so incessantly about his cam- 
paigns, that I found no good would come if I did not 
interrupt him, and introduce religion. From having 
been much with the English, he had more enlarged 
views than most of the Hindoos, and talked like a 
Mussulman — that all were of one caste before God — 
that there would be a day of judgment — and that there 
was only one God. When I endeavoured to make 
him comprehend the nature of the death of Christ, he 
merely said, ' ah ! that is your shaster,' so never 



168 JOCRNAt 01?' Hid 

was any effort more ineffectual. In the bazaar, I 
stood and asked if any one could read Nagree. There 
was only one who could and he took a tract; about 
ten others were taken also. I suffered greatly from de- 
jection most of the evening. But the Lord graciously 
came in the time of need and supported my sinking faith. 
' The Lord reigneth,' and the people shall ' remember 
and turn to the Lord.' " 

Nov. 16. — Sunday. " Generally in a solemn, ten- 
der spirit. Spent the first half of the day in reading 
the Scriptures and prayer. Many a word was brought 
home with abundance of consolation to my soul. 
« Though I walk through the Valley of the shadow of 
death, 1 will fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy 
rod and thy staff they comfort me.' When do the 
sheep find the happiness of having a shepherd so much 
as when they are walking through a dark shadow. 
While Jesus lets me see his ' rod and staff,' I am com- 
forted. In the afternoon, read some French sermons^ 
Walked in the evening to a poor village, where I only 
produced terror. One man whom I at last met, told 
me that none could read in the village but a Brahmin ;■ 
and he was gone to another town. I left two tracts 
for him, and told the man to be sure to give them ta 
Iiim when he came back. The man was in no small 
alari^ at this, but asked only where I got them. Dis- 
tressed at times — I fear that I am not acting faithfully 
in warning those around me. But the shortest way to 
peace is, to pray for a broken heart and submissive 
spirit: by these means, my mind brigthened up. At 
night, was deeply affected about my two dear sisters : 
and felt the bowels of affection yearn over them ; who 
knows what they have been suffering all this while. 
For my poor elder sister I interceded that she might be 
saved." 

Nov. 17.—" Early this morning they set me ashore 
to see a hot spring. A great number of Brahmins and 
Fakirs were there. Not being able to understand 



tOYAGE TO DINAPORB. t69 

them, I gave away tracts. Many followed me to the 
budgerow, where I gave away more tracts and some 
Testaments. Arrived at Monghir about noon. In the 
evening some came to me for books; and among them, 
those who had travelled from the spring, having heard 
the report that I was giving away copies of the Ra- 
mayuna. They would not believe me when I told 
them that it was not the Ramayuna; I gave them six 
or eight more. In the morning tried to translate with 
the Moonshee one of the Nagree papers." 

Nov. 18. — " A man followed the budgerow along the 
walls of the fort ; and finding an opportunity, got on 
board with another, begging for a book — not believing 
but that it was the Ramayuna. As I hesitated, having 
given as many as I could spare for one place, he pros- 
trated himself to the earth, and placed his forehead in 
the dust; at which I felt an indescribable horror. I 
gave them each a Testament. Employed in writing 
out the Parables, and translating. In the even- 
ing met with two villagers, and finding they could 
read, I brought them to the boat, and gave them each ^ 
a Testament, and some tracts." 

Nov. 19. — " Employed in translating the Parablesr 
all the day. Finished the first book of the Ramayuna, 
Came-to at a desert place on the north side; where, 
in my walk, I met with a man with whom 1 conversed ; 
but we could understand each other but very little. To 
a boy with bim, who could read, I gave some tracts* 
Felt extraordinarily wearied with my labour these two 
or three last days ; and should have been glad of some 
refreshing conversation." 

Nov. 20. — 22. — "Employments— the same, through* 
out these three days : — finished the sixth of Acts. Stop- 
ped eacfi night at sand-banks." 

Nov. 23. — Sunday. Spent the day comfortably and 
solemnly, in reading and prayer; but my conscience 
was grievously wounded in the evenings at the re- 
collection of having omitted opportunities of leaving 

P 



no VOYAGE TO DINAPORE. 

the word of God at a place. Yet will I adore the 
blessed Spirit — that he departs not, nor suffers my con- 
science to be benumbed. What a wretched life shall 
I lead, if I do not exert myself from morning till night 
in a place where, through whole territories, I seem to be 
the only light." 

Nov. 24. — " Employed in writing on a Parable all 
day. In my evening walk, finding an old Brahmin at 
work in the fields, I began to ask him ' how he, a Brah- 
min, was obliged to work.' He concluded his answer 
by saying, that we English had robbed them of their 
country. He was, for a considerable time, very vio- 
lent; but another Brahmin, in some fright, coming up, 
made all up, as he thought, by speaking of the brave 
English, &c. When I began to talk to them of the day 
of judgment, heaven, and hell, they seemed surprised 
and pleased, and gave great attention. But I have 
never had reason to believe, that the attention of the 
people to any thing I have to say is more than respect 
for a ' Sahib.' They never ask a question about it, and 
probably do not understand one half, even when my 
sentences are correct. The disalFection of the people 
gave rise, afterwards, to many reflections in my mind 
on what may be my future sufferings in this country : 
but, in proportion to the apparent causes of depres- 
sion, did my faith and triumph in the Lord seem to 
rise. Come what will — let me only be found in the 
path of duty, and nothing shall be wrong. Be my 
sufferings what they may, they cannot^equal those of 
my Lord, nor probably even those of the apostles and 
early martyrs. They, ' through faith, subdued king- 
doms, wrought righteousness, out of weakness were 
made strong,' &c. and why shall not I hope that I too, 
who am indeed ' like one born out of due time,' shall 
receive strength according to my day." 

Nov. 25. — " Reached Patnathis afternoon ; — walked 
about this scene of my future ministry, with a spirit 
almost overwhelmed at the sight of the immense mul- 



EMPLOYMENTS AT DINAPORE. 171 

titudes* There was a Rajah sitting at the door of his 
tent, hy the water-side. Came to the budgerow at 
night ill with a headache, and still more weak and 
feeble in faith. Pain in the head continued acute all 
night." 

•Nov. 26. — *' The multitudes at the water-side prodi- 
gious. Arrived, in the afternoon, at Dinapore ; but did 
not go on shore. Employed in translating and writing 
on the Parables. My spirit this evening was sweetly 
elevated beyond the people and the concerns of this 
world, while meditating on the words, ' I am the 
Almighty God ; walk before me, and be thou per- 
fect.' " 



CHAPTER VI. 

MR MARTYN IS FIXED AT DINAPORE COMMENCES HIS 

MINISTRY TRANSLATIONS DISPUTES WITH HIS MOON- 

8HEE AND PUNDIT DIFFICULTIES RESPECTING THE 

SCHOOLS HIS HAPPINESS IN THE WORK OF TRANSLA- 
TION. 

On reaching Dinapore, which, for a considerable 
time, was to be his permanent residence, Mr. Martyn's 
immediate objects were threefold: to establish native 
Bchools — to attain such readrness in speaking Hin- 
doostanee, as might enable him to preach in that lan- 
guage the gospel of the grace of God — and to prepare 
translations of the Scriptures and religious tracts for 
dispersion. We have already seen that the idea of 
translating the Parables, accompanied by some remarks 
upon them, had occupied his mind during his voyage 
up the Ganges. At Dinapore he continued to engage 
in this employment with the same earnestness. Of 



172 EMPLOYMENTS 

Hindoostanee he already knew enough to translate with 
grammatical accuracy; and his Moonshee was at hand 
to suggest the proper idiom, and, what in that language 
is so difficult, the just and exact collocation of the 
words in the sentences. The obstacles which he had 
to overcome in acquiring the languages of the country, 
he represents as formidable. Passing out of Bengal 
into Bahar, he found that he had to acquaint himself 
with the Baharree as well the Hindoostanee; and the 
Baharree had its various dialects. " I am low-spirited," 
he said, soon after reaching Dinapore, " about my work ; 
I seem to be at a stand, not knowing what course to 
take." From the Pundit whom he employed he learn- 
ed— -though the statement was probably exaggerated — 
that every four cos (miles) the language changes; and 
by the specimens he gave of a sentence in the dialects 
across the water at Gyah, and some other places, they 
appeared to differ so much, that a book in the dialect 
of one district, would be unintelligible to the people of 
another. As the best mode of acquiring a knowledge 
of the various oriental tongues, the study of Sanscrit 
was recommended to him by his Pundit, and with what 
spirit he laboured in this and other pursuits may be seen 
from his account of the work of a single day. 

" Morning with the Pundit, occupied in Sanscrit^^ 
in the afternoon, hearing a Parable in the Bahar dia- 
lect. Continued till late at night wn*iting on the 
Parables. My soul much impressed with the immea- 
surable importance of my work, and the jvickedness and 
cruelty of wasting a moment, when so many nations 
are, as it were, waiting while I do my work. Felt 
eager for the morning to come again, that I might re- 
sume my work." 

The difficulties of various kinds which presented 
themselves to Mr. Martyn, could not fail of being a 
source of pain to him, in proportion to his fervent anx- 
iety to benefit all around him. But it was his privi- 
ledge and consolation to remember that he was in Hi« 



AT DINAPORE. 173 

kands, in whom are '^ hid all the treasures of wisdom 
and knowledge," and " with whom all things are pos- 
sible." Had he not sought and found refuge in the 
omnipotence of Christ, soon would he have sunk into 
despondency. To those who have not elevated their 
views above the feeble efforts of human agency, the 
conversion of the heathen cannot but appear to exceed 
the limits of possibility. Mr. Martyn, who in England 
had met with many such disputers of this world, found 
that India was by no means destitute of them. A con- 
versation into which he was led with one of these cha- 
racters, was painfully trying to him ; *' but in the mul- 
titude of my troubled thoughts," he said, " I still saw 
that there is ' strong consolation in the hope set before 
us.' Let me labour for fifty years, midst scorn, and 
without seeing one soul converted — still it shall not be 
worse for my soul in eternity, nor even worse for it in 
time. ' Though the heathen rage,' and the English 
people, ' imagine a vain thing,' the Lord Jesus, who 
controls all events, is my friend — my master — my God — 
my all. On this rock of ages, on which I feel my foot 
rest, *my head is lifted up above all mine enemies 
round about me,' and I sing, ' yea, I will sing praises 
unto the Lord.' " 

From much of the society Mr. Martyn found at Di- 
napore, he received more discomfort than disappoint- 
ment; — some there were, indeed, who treated him from 
the first with the utmost kindness ; — who afterwards be- 
came his joy, and who one day will assuredly be his 
crown of rejoicing. But before that happy change in 
them was effected by the power of divine grace, he 
found none to whom he could fully and freely unbosom 
himself. With what gladness and thankfulness, there- 
fore, did he welcome the arrival of letters from his be- 
loved Christian friends at Calcutta and in England. 
He speaks of being exceedingly comforted, on return- 
ing home after a melancholy walk, and finding letters 
from Mr. Brown and Mr. Corrie, and from two of hia 
p2 



174 EMPLOYMENTS 

friends in England, who were as dear to him as he was 
to tliem. *' How sweet," he said, after perusing these 
memorials of affection, *' are the delights of Christian 
friendship ; and what must heaven be, where there are 
none but humble, kind, and holy children of God. 
Such a society would of itself be a heaven to me, after 
what I feel at the ways of worldly people here." Nor 
was it only by the neglect, levity, and profaneness of 
many of his countrymen, where he was stationed, that 
Mr. Martyn was pained and grieved : his meek and ten- 
der spirit was hurt likewise at the manner in which he 
conceived himself to be regarded by the natives: by 
the anger and contempt with which multitudes of them 
eyed him in his palanquin at Patna, he was particularly 
affected ; observing, " Here every native I meet is an 
enemy to me because I am an Englishman. England 
appears almost a heaven upon earth, because there one 
is not viewed as an uxijust intruder. But Oh ! the hea- 
ven of my God — the ' general assembly of the first born, 
the spirits of just men made perfect,' and Jesus ! O, 
let me, for a little moment, labour and suffer reproach." 
The observations he was compelled to hear from 
his Moonshee and Pundit, often present a curious and 
affecting display of Pagan and Mahomedan ignorance.* 
"Upon shewing," he writes, *'the Moonshee the first 
part of John iii. he instantly caught at those words of 
our Lord, in which he first describes himself as hav- 
ing come down from heaven, and then calls himself 
* the Son of Man which is in .heaven.^ He said that 
this was what the philosophers called * nickal,' or im- 
possible — even for God to make a thing to be in two 

* Many of these observations, as well as those made by the 
Persians with whom Mr. Martyn entered into religious discus- 
sion, cannot fail of giving pain to a Christian heart ; but mis- 
sic aries ought to be apprised of the nature of those weapons 
with which Christianity is assailed by Infidels. For their sakes 
much is inserted whieh otherwise had doubtless far better have 
been omitted. •« 



XT D15AP0RB. 175 

different places at the same time. I explained to him, 
as soon as his heat was a little subsided, that the dif- 
ficulty was not so much in conceiving how the Son of 
Man could be, at the same time, in two different places, 
as in comprehending that union of the two natures in 
him, which made this possible. I told him that I 
could nut ^plain this union; but shewed him the de- 
sign and wisdom of God in effecting our redemption 
by this method. I was much at loss for words, but 
I believe that he collected my meaning, and received 
some information which he did not possess before." 

In another place he says, " On reading some parts 
•of the epistles of St. John to my Moonshee, he seemed 
to view them w4th great contempt; so far above the 
wisdom of the world is their divine simplicity ! The 
Moonshee told me, at night, that when the Pundit came 
to the part about the angels ' separating the evil from 
the good;' he said, with some surprise, that there was 
no such thing in his Shaster ; but that, at the end of the 
world, the sun would come so near, as first to burn all 
the men, then the mountains, then the debtas, (inferior 
Gods,) then the waters: then God, reducing himself 
to the size of a thumb-nail, would swim on the leaf of 
a peepul tree." 

The commencement of Mr. Martyn's ministry 
amongst the Europeans of Dinapore, was not of such 
a kind as either to gratify or encourage him. At first 
he read prayers to the soldiers at the barracks from the 
drum-head, and as there were no seats provided, was 
desired to omit his sermon. 

Arrangements being afterwards made for the per* 
formance of divine service with somewhat of that order 
and decency which becomes its celebration, the resident 
families at Dinapore assembled on the sabbath, and 
attended Mr. Martyn's ministry. By many of these, 
offence was taken at bis not reading to them a written 
sermon, and it was intimated to him by letter, that it 
was their wish that he should desist from extempore 



176 EMPLOYMENT 

preaching. At such an interference on the pari of his 
flock, he confesses that he was at first roused into anger 
and displeasure ; — he could not but think that the peo- 
ple committed to his charge, had forgotten the relation 
which subsisted between him and them, in dictating to 
him the mode in which they thought proper to be 
addressed : on mature reflection, however, he resolved 
upon compliance, for the sake of conciliation: — saying 
that, '' he would give them a folio sermon-book, if 
they would receive the word of God on that account." 

Whilst the flock at Dinapore were thus overstepping 
the limits of respect and propriety, Mr. Martyn was 
informed that one of his brethern at Calcutta was 
about to transgress the rules of Christian charity very 
grievously, by publishing one of those pulpit invec- 
tives which had been fulminated against him on his 
arrival at Calcutta. Such an act in a brother chaplain 
would, in some minds, have excited vindictive feelings. 
In his, the chief excitement was a discomposure, aris- 
ing from an apprehension, that he might be compelled 
to undertake a public refutation of this attack on his 
doctrines ; — an undertaking which would consume 
much of that precious time which he wished wholly to 
devote to his missionary work. 

Thus terminated the year 1806; — on the last day of 
which Mr. Martyn appears to have been much engaged 
in prayer and profitable meditation on the lapse of time : 
feeling communion with the saints of God in the world, 
whose minds were turned to the consideration of those 
awful things, which cannot but be suggested to a 
reflecting mind by a year irrecoverably past. 

On the first day of the year 1807, Mr. Martyn was 
led to the following reflection, from whence we perceive, 
that it is the work of the self-same Spirit to convince 
the soul of sin ; to constrain it to unreserved obedience ; 
and to fill it with unutterable consolation. 

'* Seven years have passed away since I was first 
called of God. Before the conclusion of another seven 



LT DINA-POB*. 177 

years, how probable is it that these hands will have 
mouldered into dust! But be it so: my soul through 
grace hath received the assurance of eternal life, and 
I see the days of my pilgrimage shortening without a 
wish to add to their number. But may I be stirred 
up to a faithful discharge of my high and awful work; 
and, laying aside, as much as may be, all carnal cares 
and studies, may I give myself to this * one thing.' 
The last has been a year to be remembered by me, be- 
cause the Lord has brought me safely to India, and 
permitted me to begin, in one sense, my missionary 
work. My trials in it have been very few; every thing 
has turned out better than I expected ; loving kindness 
and tender-mercies have attended me at every step : 
therefore here will I sing his praise. I have been an 
unprofitable servant, but the Lord hath not cut me off; 
I have been wayward and perverse, yet he has brought 
me further on the way to Zion ; here, then, with seven- 
fold gratitude and affection, would I stop and devote 
myself to the blissful service of my adorable Lord. 
May he continue his patience, his grace, his direction, 
his spiritual influences, and I shall at last surely 
come off conqueror ! May he speedily open my moutk, 
to make known the mysteries of the gospel, and in 
great mercy grant that the heathen may receive it 
and live I" 

The commencement of the new year was devoted by 
Mr. Martyn to the work which was still before him, 
of translating and commenting on the Parables, as well 
as to the attainment of the Sanscrit. Sustained by the 
hope of future usefulness, he experienced much plea- 
sure, not only in urging his toilsome way through the 
rudiments of thatlangaage, but even when he appeared, 
notwithstanding every exertion, to be making no sensi- 
ble progress in it. *' Employed," he says, one day in 
the month of January, 1807 — " morning and evening 
in Sanscrit grammar, and in the afternoon, in translating 
the Parables. Though I scarcely stirred in Sanscrit, 



178 EMPLOYMENTS 

yet by keeping myself steady to the work, I had much 
comfort in my soul, and this day, like all others, fled 
swiftly away." 

To these employments he added another also — the 
translation into Hindoostanee of those parts of the Book 
of Common Prayer, which are most frequently used. 
This project, when it first occurred to him, so arrested 
his mind, that he instantly began to translate, and pro- 
ceeded as far as the end of the Te Deum : fearing, how- 
ever, as it was the sabbath, that such an employment 
might not be in perfect harmony with the sacred solem- 
nity of that day, inasmuch as it was not strictly of a 
devotional kind, he desisted from making further pro- 
gress — so deep was his reverence for a divine appoint- 
ment — so jealous his fear of offending his God ! After 
passing, therefoipe, the remainder of the day in reading 
the Holy Scriptures, and singing praises to the Lord, 
he closed it with these reflections : — " O how shall I 
sufliciently praise my God, that here in this solitude, 
with people enough, indeed, but without a saint, I yet 
feel fellowship with all those who, in every place, call 
on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. I see myself 
travelling on with them, and I hope I shall worship with 
them in His courts above !" 

These peculiar studies, as well as the conversations 
which Mr. Martyn frequently had with the natives, (for 
which purpose he went about without his palanquin) 
were regarded by many with a mixture of jealous}'', fear, 
and contempt. Did he so much as^peak to a native — 
it was'enough to excite wonder and alarm ; nor is this a 
matter of surprise, when we consider, that all love for 
the soul, and all fear of God, are as certainly absent and 
inoperative in worldly characters, as the love of plea- 
sure and the fear of man are present and predominant. 
And if, in ordinary circumstances, such a line of conduct 
as Mr. Martyn adopted in India, was calculated to awak- 
en the apprehensions of those who lived chiefly for this 
world ; — at this particular juncture it was more likely to 



AT DINAPORtt. 179 

be attended with these effects. For just at this time, 
the settlement was thrown into some consternation by 
hearing of the sudden arrival of twelve thousand Mah- 
rattas in the neighbourhood:— of which event the 
alarmists at Dinapore might be ready to take advantage, 
and endeavour in some way or other to connect it with 
Mr. Martyn's plans for the conversion of the natives 
to Christianity. These troops, however, had other ob- 
jects than those which the wakeful fear of some might 
have assigned them : their destination being simply 
to attend one of their chiefs on a pilgrimage to Be- 
nares. •> 

Religious discussions between Mr. Martyn,his Moon- 
shee, and Pundit, were almost of daily occurrence, and 
as they serve to throw light on his character, as well as 
on that of those with whom a missionary must be con- 
versant in India, it may be useful again to refer to what 
his journals contain on this head. 

'' Long disputes with the Moonshee on the enjoyments 
of heaven ; I felt some mortification at not having a com- 
mand of language. There are a variety of lesser argu- 
ments, the force of which consists in their being brought 
together in rapid succession in conversation ; which no- 
thing but a command of words can enable one to effect. 
However, I was enabled to tell the Moonshee one thing; 
that my chief enjoyment, even now on earth, was the 
enjoyment of God's presence, and a growing conformity 
to him; and therefore, I asked, what motives could the 
promise of houris, ghilmans, green meadows, and eating 
and drinking in paradise afford me? My soul sweetly 
blessed the Lord in secret, that this testimony was true : 
and O what a change must have been wrought in 
me." 

.Tan. 16.— *' Employed on the Sanscrit;— in the after- 
noon, collecting idiomatic phrases for the Parables. Fi- 
nished the first epistle of St. .Tohn with the Moonshee. 
I asked him what he thought of those passages which so 
strongly express the doctrine of the Trinity, and of the 



tSO OlSPUTBS WITH Hfff 

divinity of Christ: he said he never would believe it: 6e^ 
cause the Koran declared it to be sinful to say that God 
had any son. I told him that he ought to pray that God 
would teach him what the truth really is. He said he 
had no occasion to pray on this subject, as the word of 
God was express. I asked him whether some doubt 
ought not to arise in his mind, whether the Koran is the 
word of God. He grew angry; and I felt hurt and vex- 
ed. I should have done better to have left the words of 
the chapter with him, without saying any thing. I went 
also too far with the Pundit, in arguing against his su- 
perstition : for he also grew angry. If any qualification 
seems necessary to a missionary in India — it is wisdom 
— operating in the regulation of the temper, and the due 
improvement of opportunities." 

" Dictating to-day the explanation of a Parable to 
fhe Moonshee, I had occasion to give the proofs of the 
corruption of human nature; and drew the conclusion 
t^at, hence, till our hearts are changed, we are abo^ 
minable in the sight of God, and our own works, how- 
ever useful to men, are worthless in his sight. I think 
I never saw such a striking instance of the truth grap- 
pling with human nature : he seemed like a fish when 
be first finds that the hook has hold of him ; he was in 
a dreadful rage, and endeavoured to escape from the 
convictions these truths produced ; but seemingly in 
vain. At last, recovering himself, he said he had a 
question to ask; which was — what would become of 
children, if the dispositions they were born with ren^ 
dered them odious in the sight of God? I gave him 
the best answer I could: but he considered it nothing, 
because founded on Scripture ; and said, with great 
contempt, that this was mere matter of faith, the same 
sort of thing as when the Hindoos believed the non- 
sense of their shatters." 

How delightful must it have been to Mr. Maityn to 
turn, as he did at this time, from controversies with 
these unbelievers, to the enjoyment of Christian con- 



MOONSHEE AND PUNDIT.- 181 

verse and communion with his beloved friend and bro- 
ther, Mr. Corrie, who, towards the end of January, vi- 
sited him, on his way to his station at Chunar. Many 
a happy hour did these servants of Jesus Christ then 
pass, in fellowship with one another; for truly their 
fellowship was with the Father, and with his Son Jesus 
Christ. With one accord they often fell at the feet of 
their Redeemer in supplication and thanksgiving; — they 
read his holy word ; they rejoiced together in its pro- 
mises; — they spake to one another of the glory of 
Christ's kingdom; and talked of his power; and they 
parted, sorrowfully indeed, yet earnestly desiring each 
to be employed in his proper work. " Our communion," 
said Mr. Martyn, respecting this interview, " has been 
refreshing; at least to me; and the Lord has sanctified 
our meeting by his presence and his gracious influ- 
ences." 

With respect to the Europeans, amongst whom Mr. 
Martyn ministered, he had much reason to be gratified 
with the reception he met with from those whom he 
attended in the hospital: but he had equal cause to 
be dissatisfied and grieved with the behaviour which 
he witnessed, too generally, in the houses of the 
wealthy. Can we be surprised, therefore, that he 
should prefer, as he did, the house of mourning, to that 
of feasting 1 In vain did he endeavour, amongst the up- 
per ranks, to introduce religious topics in conversation. 
** I spoke, " he said, after visiting some of these, " se- 
veral times about religion to them; but the manner in 
which it was received, damped all further attempt. 
* Who hath believed our report, and to whom is the 
arm of the Lord revealed V How awful does the thought 
sometimes appear to me, that almost the whole world 
are united against God and his Christ. O thou injured 
sovereign ! O Lord, how long will it be ere thou plead 
thine own cause, and make bare thine arm in the sight 
of the nations'? Let me in patience possess my soul; 
arid though iniquity abound, may T never wax cold, 
Q 



182 EMPL0YAIENT3 

but be brought safely through all this darkness ani 
danger to a happier world ! To thousands my word will, 
perhaps, prove a ' savour of death unto death.' Let 
me, nevertheless, go on steadily in the path which 
the Lord hath marked out; perhaps some poor soul 
may be converted by what he shall hear from me ; or, 
if not, I shall have done my work." In such society, 
as might be expected, he found his desires and endea- 
vours for the conversion of the heathen invariably dis* 
countenanced and opposed. Having, on one occetsion^ 
referred to the Company's charter, as not only permit- 
ting, but even enjoining the communication of religious 
instruction to the natives — coldness and distance, on 
the part of those he was visiting, were the immediate 
consequences of his observations. But " His soul could 
rejoice in God, that if men were unkind, it was for 
Christ's sake ; and he felt determined to go on with' 
" vigour ; though the whole world of wretched men should 
oppose." 

With respect to the conversion of the natives to the 
nominal profession of Christianity, in Mr. Martyn'3 
opinion, the difficulty was by no means great. He was 
surprised at the laxity of principle which seemed to 
prevail among them, and could well perceive th^it the 
idea of embracing the religion of the English was 
very pleasant to the Pundit, and to other Hindoos. 
But he did not fail to explain to them, "that it was no 
object of his to make them ' Feringees,' in the sense 
in which they understood it ; and assured them that if 
all the Brahmins and Rajahs of the^ country would 
come to him for baptism, he would not baptise them, 
except he believed that they repented, and would re- 
nounce the world." 

With the condition of the natives in a moral point of 
view, Mr. Martyn had but too much reason to be 
shocked and affected : and he was sometimes called 
upon to interfere, and that with some personal hazard, 
to prevent acts of the greatest turpitude and injustice 



AT DINAPORE. 183 

among them. " My Surdar," he says, " was imprisoned 
by an unjust Cotwal. I sent word for him to give no- 
thing for his release; and not. to fear : the Cotwal was 
afraid, and let the man go, and ceased his claim upon 
liis relations. This has been a long and iniquitous 
.business. I felt quite thankful that the Lord had 
thus shown himself the father of the fatherless. 1 
could hardly believe such barefaced oppression. How 
much has the gospel done in producing sentiments of 
justice and equity in all ranks of people in Christen- 
dom ! — The poor people hey^eseem unable to comprehend 

it." *' ," he adds, "developed a system of villainy 

carried on in the country, through the supineness of 

, which astonished and grieved me beyond measure. 

I determined to go to myself, and tell him what I 

had heard ; but thought it prudent to defer it till after 
my distant journey to Buxar ; in which the Cotwal, 
who is the head of a gang of robbers, with which the 
whole country is swarming, might easily procure my 
assassination ; if, by getting him turned out, I should 
provoke him. I thought it, however, a duty 1 owed to 
God, to him, to the poor oppressed natives, and to my 
country, to exert myself in this business ; and I felt 
authorized to risk my life." 

The journey to Buxar, during which, Mr. Marty n 
feared that, without prudence, he might possibly be- 
come a victim to the sudden revenge of one, whose 
daily oppressions caused many to weep without a com- 
forter — was taken on the 16th of February : and it may 
surprise those, who are not aware of the very slender 
|>roportion of chaplains then allotted to our empire in 
India, to be informed that he travelled seventy miles for 
the purpose of performing part of his pastoral duty in 
the celebration of a marriage. But before we attend 
him on this journey, let us notice his abstraction from 
the world; his sacred peace; his holy aspiration; his 
deep contrition at this period : — '* I felt more entirely 
withdrawn from the world, than for a long time past : 



184 A JOURNEY 

what a dark atheistical state do I generally live in 
Alas! that this creation should so engross my mind 
and the author of it be so slightly and coldly regarded 
I found myself, at this time, truly a stranger and a pil 
4jJ>; grim in the world; and I did suppose that not a wish 

remained for any thing here. The experience of my 
heart was delightful. I enjoyed a peace that passeth 
all understanding; no desire remained, but that this 
peace might be confirmed and increased. O why should 
any thing draw away my attention, whilst Thou art 
ever near and ever accessible through the Son of Thy 
love ? O why do I not always walk with God, forgetful 
of a vain and perishable world 1 Amazing patience ! 
He bears with this faithless, foolish heart, and suffers 
me to come, laden with sins, to receive new pardon, 
new grace, every day. Why does not such love mako 
me hate those sins which grieve him, and hide him 
from my sight? I sometimes make vain resolutions, in 
my own strength, that I will think of God. Reason, 
and scripture, and experience, teach me that such a 
life is happiness and holiness ; that by ' beholding his 
glory,' I should be changed ' into his image, from glory 
to glory,' and be freed from those anxieties which 
make me unhappy : and that, every motive to duty 
being strong, obedience would be easy." 
^^^g^^ Of his journey to Buxar, Mr. Martyn has left the 
^™Bp following account. February 16. — " Rose very early, 
■^^'^'^ and accumulated work for my Moonshee in my absence. 

Made my will, and left it with . At half-past three 

set off in a palanquin, and in four hours reached the 
Soane. From thence travelled all night, and at nine 
next morning reached Buxar. Being unable to sleep, 
I arrived so sick and unwell, as to be convinced of the 
unprofitableness of travelling by night in this country. 
By reading some of the epistle to the Ephesians before 
it grew dark, and meditating upon it afterwards, my 
time passed agreeably ; and I thought with delight of 
the time when I should be able to adopt the apostle's 




TO BUXAR. 185 

words with respect to the heathen aground me. After 
breakfast I lay down, and endeavoured in vain to get 
sleep. I was much assisted in conversation with the 
family after dinner, when we conversed much on reli- 
gious subjects ; and I had as good an opportunity as I 
could have wished, of explaining the nature of the 
gospel, and offering considerations for embracing it. 
I retired to rest with my heart full of joy, at being thus 
assisted to pass the time profitably." 

Feb. 18.—" My birth~day— twenty-six.— With all 
the numerous occasions for deep humiliation, I have 
cause for praise, in recollecting th-e promising openings 
and important changes which have occurred since my 
Jast birth-day. The Lord, in love, make me wax stronger 
and stronger! — Walked after breakfast to a pagoda 
within the fort at Buxar, where a Brahmin read and ex- 
pounded. It was a scene, I suppose, descriptive of 
the ancient times of Hindoo glory. The Brahmin sat 
under the shade of a large banyan near the pagoda; 
his hair and beard were white, and his head most grace- 
fully crowned with a garland of flowers. A servant of 
the Rajah sat on his right hand, at right angles; and 
the venerable man then sung the Sanscrit verses of the 
Huribuns, and explained them to him without turning 
his head, but only his eyes, which had a very digni- 
fied effect. I waited for the first pause to ask some 
questions, which led to a long conversation : and this 
ended by my attempting to give them a history of 
redemption. The Rajah's servant was a very modest, 
pensive man, but did not seem to understand what I 
said so well as the old Brahmin, who expressed his 
surprise and pleasure, as well as the other, at finding 
a Sahib who cared any thing about religion. I after- 
wards sent a copy of the Nagree Gospels to the servant, 
desiring that it might be given to the Rajah, if he 
would accept it. In the evening I married and admi- 
nistered the sacrament to and at their own 

desire." 



186 H18 HAPPINESS, 

Feb, 19. — '* Rose at four and left Buxar, and at nine 
in the evening reached Dinapore in safety ; blessed bft 
God ! — May my life, thus preserved by unceasing Pro* 
vidence, be his willing sacrifice." 

The scene Mr. Martyn witnessed in the pagoda at 
Buxar, was succeeded, soon after his return to Dina- 
pore, by another which he describes as still more inte- 
resting. " A poor Jew from Babylon came to me beg- 
ging. He was tall, but stooping from weakness, and 
his countenance strongly marked with grief. When, 
at his first arrival, I asked him iflie was a Mussulman, 
he said in alow and pensive tone of voice — No! an 
Isralee. Alas ! poor people, still full of the fury of the 
Lord, the rebuke of thy God I I felt all the tenderness 
of a kinsman towards him, and found myself, as it were, 
at home with an Asiatic who acknowledged the God of 
Abraham. The passage in Isaiah ix. 5, 6, he rendered 
as meaning the Almighty God." 

The state of the schools, five of which, at his own 
expense solely, Mr. Martyn had instituted in and about 
Dinapore, now began to occasion him some anxiety. 
An alarm was spread that it was his intention to seize 
upon all the children, and, in some compulsory manner, 
make them Christians. The school at Patna, in con- 
sequence, suddenly sunk in number, from forty children 
to eight : and at Dinapore, a spot of ground which had 
been fixed upon for the erection of a school-room, 
could not be obtained from the Zemindar. In this per- 
plexity Mr. Martyn lost no time in ascertaining what 
a soothing, and at the same time sincere, explanation 
of his sentiments might effect ; and for this purpose he 
went to Patna. There, in addition to his present per- 
plexities, he had the severe pain of beholding a servant 
of the company — a man advanced in years and occu- 
pying a situation of great respectability — living in a 
state of daring apostacy from the Christian faith, and 
openly professing his preference for Mahometanism. 
He had even built a Mosque of his own ; which at this 



HIS HAPPINESS. 1#7 

season, being the Mohurrun, was adorned with flags ; 
and being illuminated at night, proclaimed the shame 
of the offender. It will readily be supposed that Mr. 
Martyn did not fail to sound a warning voice in the 
ears of this miserable apostate — he charged him to 
** remember whence he was fallen" — and exhorted him 
to consider, that *Hhe Son of God had died for sin- 
ners." 

At the school at Patna, neither children nor teacher 
were to be found ; all, as if struck by a panic, had ab- 
sented themselves. The people, however, quickly ga- 
thered in crowds, and to them Mr. Martyn declared, that 
his intentions had been misunderstood; when, such 
was the effect of temperate reasonings and mild expos- 
tulations, that all apprehensions were removed almost 
as quickly as they had been excited ; — and in a few days 
the children came as usual to the schools of Patna 
and Dinapore. 

By February 24, a work was completed by Mr. Martyn, 
which, had he effected nothing else, would have prov- 
ed that he had not lived in vain — the translation of the 
book of Common Prayer into Hindoostanee; and on 
Sunday, March 15, he commenced the performance of 
divine worship in the vernacular language of India, 
concluding with an exhortation from the Scripture, in 
the same tongue. The spectacle was as novel as it 
was gratifying — to behold two hundred women, Portu- 
guese,Roman Catholics, and Mahometans, crowding to 
attend the service of the Church of England, which had 
lost nothing, doubtless, of its beautiful simplicity and 
devout solemnity, in being clothed with an oriental 
dress. 

Toward the latter end of the month of March, another 
useful work was also brought to a conclusion — that of 
a " Commentary on the Parables." — " The little book of 
the Parables" — Mr. Martyn wrote to Mr. Corrie at 
this time, *'is finished, through the blessing of God: 
I cannot say that I am very well pleased on the re- 



2gg HIS MINISTRV 

perusal of it : but yet, containing-, as it does, such large 
portions of the word of God, I ought not to doubt its 
accomplishing that which He pleaseth." 

" Talking to the Moonshee" — he says in his Jour- 
nal — of the probable effects of that work, " he cut me to 
the very heart by his contemptuous reflections on the 
gospel ; — saying that, after the present generation was 
passed away, a race of fools might perhaps arise, who 
would try to believe, that God could be a man, and 
man God, and who would say that this is the word of 
God. One advantage I may derive from his bitterness 
and disrespect is, that I shall be surprised at no appear- 
ances of the same temper in others in future. May 
my Lord enable me to maintain an invincible spirit of 
love ! — How sweet that glorious day, when Jesus Christ 
shall reign! Death, at several times of this day, ap- 
peared infinitely sweet in this view of it^ — that I shall 
then go to behold the glory of Christ." 

Mr. Martyn's duties on the Sabbath had now in- 
creased ; — consisting of one service at seven in the 
morning to the Europeans, another at two in the after- 
noon to the Hindoos, and an attendance at the hospital : 
after which, in the evening, he ministered privately at 
his own rooms to those soldiers who were most seri- 
ously impressed with a sense of divine things. From 
the following statement we may see and appreciate his 
exertions. — "The English service, at seven in the 
morning. I preached on Luke xxii. 22. As is always 
the case when I preach about Chris^, a spiritual influ- 
ence was diffused over my soul. The rest of the 
morning, till dinner time, I spent not unprofitably in 
reading Scripture and David Brainerd, and in prayer. 
That dear saint of God, David Brainerd, is truly a man 
after my own heart. Although I cannot go half-way 
with him in spirituality and devotion, I cordially unite 
with him in such of his holy breathings as I have attain- 
ed unto. How sweet and wise, like him and the saints 
of old, to pass through this world as a serious and con*- 



AT DINAPORE. 189 

siderate stranger. I have had more of this temper to- 
day than of late, and every duty has been in harmony 
with my spirit. The service in Hindoostanee was 
at two o'clock. The number of women not above one 
hundred. I expounded chap iii. of St. Matthew. Not- 
withstanding the general apathy with which they seem- 
ed to receive every thing, there were two or three who, 
I was sure, understood and felt something. But, be- 
side them, not a single creature, European or native 
was present. Yet true spirituality, with all its want 
of attraction for the carnal heart, did prevail over the 
splendid shows of Greece and Rome, and shall again 
here. A man at the hospital much refreshed me, by 
observing, that if I made an acquisition of but one con- 
vert in my whole life, it would be a rich reward ; and 
that I was taking the only possible way to this end. 
This man's remark was much more sensible than - — 's, 
yesterday, who, it seems, had full information of my 
schools, &c. and said that I should make no prose- 
lytes. 'Thy judgments are far above, out of their 
sight,' How positively they speak, as if there was 
no God who could influence the heart. At night 
B and S came, and we had the usual ser- 
vice." 

With those soldiers who attended Mr. Martyn always 
on the evening of the Sabbath, and often on some other 
evenings of the week, he enjoyed true spiritual commu- 
nion. Thdir number was at first very small, amount- 
ing at the most to five ; sometimes, indeed, only one 
could attend, but with him he would gladly unite in 
prayer and praise, and in reading the Scriptures; and 
the promise of the Redeemer's gracious presence was 
verified, to their abundant consolation. 

Over some few of the officers stationed at Dinapore 
he now began to rejoice, with nhat joy which those 
faithful ministers alone can estimate, who, after much 
earnest preaching and admonition, and after many 
prayers and tears, at length perceive a fruitful result 



190 HIS MINISTRY 

of their anxious endeavours to win souls and glorify 
their Lord. One of these " who from the first," to 
use Mr. Martyn's own words, ** had treated him with 
the kindness of a father," at this time excited expecta- 
tions which, S(5on ripened into a delightful certainty 
that he had turned with full purpose of heart to his 
Redeemer. But if Mr. Martyn's happiness was great, 
in witnessing this effect of the divine blessing on his 
ministry ; so also was his anxiety, lest this new con- 
vert should relapse, and walk again according to the 
course of this world ; and he began, for the first time, 
he said, in reference to him, to enter into the spirit of 
the Apostle's words — " Now we live, if ye stand fast 
in the Lord." 

To those ministerial duties in which he was now en- 
gaged, Mr. Martyn considered that in prudence he 
ought, for the present, to confine himself; — had he 
given way at once to the strong and full-flowing tide 
of his zeal and love, it would immediately have carri- 
ed him, with the Bible in his hand, into the streets of 
Patna ; though to have commenced his ministry in 
that idolatrous city, would, as he confesses to Mr. Cor- 
rie, have cost him much. He wrote to Mr. G. in these 
ardent and energetic terms — " O that the time were 
come that I should be able to carry the war into the ene- 
my's territory. It will be a severe trial to the flesh, 
my dear brother, for us both; — but it is sufiicient for 
the disciple to be as his master, and the servant as his 
Lord. We shall be ' accounted as the filth of the world, 
and the oflf-scouring of all things.' But glory be to 
God, if we shall be accounted worthy to suflfer shame 
for the name of the Lord Jesus. The cause we under- 
take is, if possible, more odious and contemptible in the 
eyes of the people of this country than it was in the 
primitive times : and that because of the misconduct 
of the Roman Catholic missionaries, in administering 
baptism to people without repentance. It is no more 
than natural that 'Christian' should be a name of exe- 



AT DINAPORET. 10 1 

cration, to those who know no more of Christian-* 
ity than what they have hitherto observed in this 
country." 

To that unrestrained intercourse by letter, which Mr, 
Martyn held weekly with Mr. Corrie, he was indebted 
for much of the purest felicity of his life. Such a 
friend, stationed near him in such a country, he ranked 
amongst the richest blessings showered down upon 
him from on high. For, if we except his other brethren 
in India, with whom he statedly corresponded every 
quarter, and often also at other times, and never but 
with great delight — he had no one like-minded, who 
would naturally care for the souls of the heathen :• Mr- 
Corrie was of one heart with himself^ 

An interruption of this correspondence, which now 
took place, painful as it was in itself to Mr. Martyn, 
was more so with respect to its cause. The military 
station at Chunar is considered more adverse to the 
constitution of an European than almost any other in 
India; and the heat, which in the month of March 
raised the thermometer at Dinapore to 92° in the shade, 
at Chunar was still more oppressively intense. Mr. 
Corrie's health began in consequence to be seriously 
affected, and many apprehensions for his most valuable 
life, forced themselves upon the mind of Mr. Martyn. 

The following extract of a letter written upon this 
occasion^ shews Mr Martyn's anxiety for his friend, 
and evinces also how fully he was alive to the neces- 
sity of subjecting the impetuosity of zeal to the dis- 
criminating correction of wisdom. " If there is nothing 
on the rock of Chunar which occasions your frequent 
illness, I am sure I am not one to advise you to leave 
your flock. But if there is — as I have much reason to 
believe — then the mere loss of your services to thq^few 
people there, is, I think, not sufficient reason for ha- 
zarding your life, in which the interest of millions of 
others are immediately involved. — Consider, you bring 
a fixed habit of body with you, and must humour it a* 



I9d HIS MINISTRY 

much as possible, at first. When, after the experiencd 
of a year or two, you know what you can bear, go, if 
you please, to the extent of your powers. It is not 
agreeable to the pride and self-righteous parts of our 
nature, to be conferring with flesh and blood :, nature, 
under a religious form, would rather squander away 
life and strength, as David Brainerd did. , You kaow 
that I regard him as one "the latchet of whose shoes 
I am not worthy to unloose;" and yet, considering 
the palpable impropriety of his attempting to do what 
he did, when he ought to have been in medical hands, 
and not being able to ascribe it to folly, in such a sensi- 
ble man — I feel diposed, perhaps from motives of cen* 
seriousness, to ascribe it to the desire of gaining his 
own good opinion." — Then proceeding to the subject 
which lay so near both their hearts — the conversion of 
the heathen-— he thus concludes, " I long to hear of a 
Christian school established at Benares: it will be 
like the ark of God brought into the house of Dagon, 
But do not be in a hurry : let your character become 
known, and you may do anything. If nothing el,se 
comes of our schools, one thing I feel assured of — that 
the children will grow up ashamed of the idolatry and 
other customs of their country. But surely the general 
conversion of the natives is not far off: — the poverty of 
the Brahmins makes them less anxious for the con- 
tinuance of the present system, from which they gain 
but little. But the translation of the Scriptures is the 
grand point. I trust we shall have^ the heavenly plea- 
sure of dispersing the Scriptures together through the 
interior. Oh! the happiness and honour of being the 
Children of God, the ministers of Christ!" 

Mr.Martyn's own health, as well as that of his friend, 
was reduced at this time to a weak and languid state. 
To the debilitating effects of the heated atmosphere, 
this was, in part, perhaps, to be attributed ; but it was 
certainly increased, if not induced, by his too severe 
abstinence. Most strictly did ho observe the holy 



AT DINAPOIIE. 193 

seasons set apart by the Church for fasting and prayer; 
— but the illness under which he now laboured, was so 
evidently aggravated, if not occasioned by abstinence, 
that he became convinced that Ihe exercise of fasting 
was so injurious to his health as to be improper, in the 
degree and frequency in which he had been accustomed 
to use it. 

In this sickness, however — though an extreme lan- 
gour accompained it — he was not only patient but active. 
On the Sabbath he would by no means desist from 
his work. — "I was assisted," he says, "to go through 
the usual ministrations without pain. In the morning 
I preached on Psalm xvi. 8, 10, and administered the 
Lord's Supper with rather more solemnity and feeling 
than I usually have. The rest of the morning I could 
do little but lie down* In the afternoon I found, I 
suppose, two hundred women, and expounded again at 
considerable length. Read the Pilgrim's Progress at 
the hospital. In exposition with the soldiers I found 
great enlargement." 

In proof of that wretchedness and ignorance in the 
natives, which so excited Mr. Martyn's compassion for 
them, we may adduce two instances with which he 
himself has furnished us; — in the cases of a Brahmin, 
and a Ranee or native princess ; though, perhaps, the 
Brahmin may be considered as only avowing senti- 
ments too common amongst many who are yet called 
Christians, and have the book of God in their hands, 
*' A Brahmin," he says, "visiting my Piyidit, copied 
out the Parable in which the Ten Commandments were 
written, with a determination to put them all accurately 
into practice, in order to be united with God. — He had, 
however, an observation to make, and a question to ask. 
* There was nothing,' he said, ' commanded to be done^ 
only things to be abstained from \ and if he should be 
taken ill in the Bazaar, or while laughing, and die; 
and through fear of transgressing the third command- 
ment, should not mention the name of God, should he 
R 



194 DISPUTES WITH rild 

go to heaven ]' — The Ranee of Daoudnagur, to whotfl 
I had sent a copy of the Gospels by the Pundit, return- 
ed her compliments, and desired to know what must be 
done for obtaining benefit from the book ; whether prayer, 
or making a saiam (a bow) to it? I sent her word that 
she must seek divine instruction by secret prayer, and 
I also added some other advice." 

Little as there was that was promising in either of 
these characters, there was yet more appearance of 
what might be thought hopeful in them, than in Mr. 
Martyn's Moonshee and Pundit, whom he still con- 
tinued to labour incessantly, though unsuccessfully, to 
convince of their awful errors. 

" My faith," he complains again, " is tried by many 
things; especially by disputes with the Moonshee 
and the Pundit. The Moonshee shews remarkable 
contempt for the doctrine of the Trinity. * It shews 
God to be weak,' he says, ' if he is obliged to have 
a fellow. God was not obliged to become man, for if 
we had all perished, he would have suffered no loss. 
And as to pardon, and the difficulty of it, 1 pardon my 
servant very easily, and there is an end. As to the Jewish 
Scriptures, how do I know but they were altered by 
themselves! They were wicked enough to do it, just 
as they made a calf. — " In all these things I an- 
swered so fully that he had nothing to reply." " In 
the afternoon I had a long argument again with the 
Pundit. He, too, wanted to degrade the person of Je- 
sus, and said that neither Bramha, Vishnu, nor Seib 
were so low as to be born of a woman; and that every 
sect wished to exalt its teacher, and so the Christians 
did Jesus. 

March 14. — "The quotations which I collected from 
Scripture this day, in treating on the Parable of the 
inconsiderate king, in order to illustrate the idea of the 
sufferings to which Christians are exposed, seemed 
to offend both the Moonshee and the Pundit very 
much. In considerino- the text — ' the time cometh 



MOONSHEE A.ND PUNDIT. 195 

when he that killeth you shall think he doeth God 
service,' he defended the practice of putting infidels 
to death, and the certainty of salvation to Moslems 
dying in battle with the infidels ; and said that it was 
no more strange than for a magistrate to have power 
to put an offender to death. He took occasion also 
to say, that both the New Testament, as we gave it, 
and the church service also, were stuffed with blas- 
phemies. With the benighted Pundit I had a long 
conversation, as he seemed to be more in earnest than 
I had yet seen him. ■ <Me asked whether by receiving 
the gospel he should see God in a visible shape ; — be- 
cause, he said, he had seen Sargoon, the deity, made 
visible : this he affirmed with great gravity and earn- 
estness. At night I lost time and temper in disputing 
with the Moonshee, respecting the lawfulness of put- 
ting men to death for blasphemy. He began by ca- 
villing at the Lord's Prayer, and ridiculing it ; parti- 
cularly the expression, ' hallowed be thy name,' — as if 
the name of the deity was not already holy. He said 
that prayer was not a duty amongst the Mahomet- 
ans ; that reading the Numaz was merely the praise 
of God ; and that as when a servant, after doing his 
master's duty well, thought it a favourable opportunity 
for asking a favour, so the Moslem, after doing his 
duty, might ask of God riches, or a son ; or, if he pleas- 
ed, patience in affliction.' This then is Mahometanism, 
to murder as infidels the children of God, and to live 
without prayer." 

" The conversation with the Pundit was more seri- 
ous than it has yet been; and 1 find that seriousness 
in the declaration of the truths of the gospel, is likely 
to have more power, than the clearest argument con- 
veyed in a trifling spirit. — I told him, that now he had 
heard the word of Christ, he would not be tried at the 
last day by the same law as the other Brahmins and 
Hindoos who had never heard it, but in the same man- 



196 DISPUTES WITH HIS 

ner as myself and other GLhristians; and that I feared, 
therefore, that he was in great danger. He said as 
usual, that there were many ways to God; but I re- 
plied that there was no other saviour than Christ, be- 
cause no other had bought men with his blood, and 
suffered their punishment for them. This effectually 
silenced him on that head : he then said that "he had 
a house and children, and that to preserve them he 
must retain the favour of the world ; that he and his 
friends despised idol-worship, but that the world 
would call him wicked if he forsook the service of the 
Gods." 

*' My Pundit grieved me, by shewing that he knew 
no more of the way of salvation than before. Alas ! 
how poor and contemptible are all my efforts for God 
•—if efforts they can be called. He observed, that 
* there was nothing express in the book about the way 
of salvatiou, or as to what one must do to be saved' — 
the legalist's question in every land." 

" My Pundit observed, that I had said that forgive- 
ness would not be given for repentance only ; whereas, 
in the third Parable, in chap. xv. of St. Luke, the re- 
pentant sinner was received at once. How could this 
be ] For his part, he would rest his hope on the Pa- 
rables, in preference to the other statements. How 
strange is the reluctance which men have to depend 
on the righteousness of another! He affirmed, that he 
was keeping all the commandments of God. But 
when I charged him with worshipping the sun at his 
morning devotions, he confessed it ; and said that it 
was not forbidden in the Ten Commandments. I 
then read him the passages relating to the worship of 
the host of heaven, but he could see no harm in this 
species of worship more than in making his salam to 
any other superior. With respect to the sabbath, he 
said that he always kept that day by fasting, and that 
all Hindoos did the same : but no reason was given 
in the Shaster why it was holy." 



MOONSHEE AND PUDIT. 197 

** Talking with the Moonshee on the old subjects — 
the divinity of Christ, Mahomet's challenge, &c. — he 
did not know of the system of the Mahometan doctors, 
that one passage abrogates another: but said that if 
I could produce two commandments undeniably op- 
posite, he would throw away the book and seek a new 
religion. Respecting the promise of Mahomet, that 
they who die fighting for Islam should certainly go to 
heaven, I said that my objection was, that the person 
thus dying might be fulLof envy, &c. — and could such 
a person go to God? In answer to this, he denied that 
the sins of the heart were sins at all : and I could say 
nothing to convince him that they were. To refute 
what he had said at some former times about Mussul- 
men not remaining in hell for ever, I applied our Sa- 
viour's parable of the servant beaten with many stripes ; 
and asked him ' if I had two servants, one of whom 
knew my will, and the other did not, and both com- 
mitted the same fault — which was the more culpable T 
He answered — ' I suppose he who knew his master's 
will.' I replied, 'yet according to you the enlighten- 
ed Mussiilmen are to come out of hell, while Jews and 
Christians, for the same sin, are to remain there for 
ever.' He had not a word to reply ; but said he could 
give no answer, 'uglee.' but only 'nuglee' — coutra- 
dicting it on the authority of the Koran. He spoke 
of the ineffectual endeavours of men to root out Islam- 
ism, as a proof of its being from God; and objected to 
Christianity because there were no difficulties in it; 
— devotion only once a week — prayer or no prayer, just 
when or where we pleased — eating with or without 
washing — and that, in general, it was a life of careless- 
ness with us." 

Toward the middle of the month of April, another 
summons,' similar to that which had caVried Mr. Mar- 
tyn to Buxar, called him from his studies and labours 
at Dinapore, to Monghir. Not long before he under- 
took this expedition, we find him thus expressing him- 
R 2 



198 A JOURNEY 

self, after an examination into the state of his heart be- 
fore God : " My mind much as usual, not tried by any 
violent assault of sin or Satan ; but the daily cause of 
grief and shame, and indeed the root of all sin, is for- 
getfuluess of God, I perceive not in what state I have 
been, till I come to pray." "Enjoyed a greater sta- 
bility of faith in the divine Redeemer. May he make 
his servant steady, brave, and vigilant in his service !" 
" Satan assaults me in various ways : Some of his temp- 
tations, respecting the person of my Lord, were dread- 
fully severe : but he triumphed not a moment. I am 
taught by these tbings to see what would become of 
me if God should withdraw his mighty hand. Is 
there any depth into which Satan would not plunge 
mer' 

" My soul is sometimes tried with the abounding of 
iniquity, and wounded by infidel thoughts. But my 
Redeemer has risen triumphant, and will not suffer his 
feeble servant to be tempted above what I am able to 
bear." " If there is one thing that refreshes my soul 
above all others, it is, that I shall behold the Redeemer 
gloriously triumphant, at the winding-up of all things. 
O thou injured sovereign, how long dost thou bear this 
ingratitude from wicked mankind !" 

" Still permitted to find sweet refuge in the pre- 
sence of my Lord, from infidelity, and from the proud 
world, and the vanities of time." 

" In prayer had an affecting sense of my shameful 
ingratitude. Had I behaved thus to an earthly bene- 
factor, shewing so little regard for hts company, and 
his approbation — how should I abhor myself, and be 
abhorred by all : O what a God is our God ! How as- 
tonishingly rich in grace, bearing all with unceasing 
patience, and doing nothing but crowning his sinful 
creature with loving-kindness and tender mercies." 

"This is the day on which I left Cambridge. My 
thoughts frequently recurred, with many tender recol- 
lections, to that seat of my beloved brethren, and I 



TO MONOHIR. 199 

agrain wandered in spirit amongst the trees on the banks 
of the Cam." 

''Employed in writing a sermon, and translating; 
but heavenly things become less familiar to my mind 
whilst I am so employed without intermission. Yet 
the whole desire of my heart is towards spiritual en- 
joyment. O when shall body, soul, and spirit, be all 
duly employed for God!" 

" Dull and poor as my miserable soul is, and think- 
ing very little about heaven ; yet for ought else that id 
in this world, existence is scarcely worth having. The 
world seems as empty a^ aij;." 

On the 18th of April, Mr. Martyn commenced his 
voyage of nearly a hundred miles to Monghir, The 
following is an extract from his journal during the eight 
days that were consumed, in thus leaving his station 
to marry a couple, and in returning afterwards to Dina- 
pore. 

"After finishing the correction of the Parables, I 
left Dinapore to go to Monghir. Spent the evening at 
Patna with Mr. G , in talking on literary sub- 
jects : but my soul was overwhelmed with a sense of 
my guilt in not striving to lead the conversation to 
something that might be for his spiritual good. * My 
general backwardness to speak on spiritual subjects be- 
fore the unconverted, made me groan in spirit at such 
unfeelingness and unbelief. May the remembrance 
of what I am made to suffer for these neglects be one 
reason for greater zeal and love in the time to come." 

April 19th. — "A melancholy Lord's day! In the 
morning, at the appointed hour, I found some solemnity 
and tenderness ; the whole desire of my soul seemed 
to be, that all the ministers in India might be eminent- 
ly holy ; and that there might be no remains of that levity 
or indolence, in any of us, which I found in myself. 
The rest of the day passed heavily; for a hurricane of 
hot winds fastened us on a sand-bank, for twelve hours; 
while the dust was suffocating, and the heat increased 



200 A JOURNEY 

the sickness which was produced by the tossing of the 
boat, and I frequently fell asleep over my work. How- 
ever, the more I felt tempted to impatience and unhap- 
piness, the more the Lord helped me to strive against 
it, and to look to the fulness of Jesus Christ. Seve- 
ral hymns, particularly 

"There is a fountain filled with blood," 

were very sweet to me. After all the acquisitions of 
human science, what is there to be compared with the 
knowledge of Christ, and him crucified] — Read much 
of the scripture history of Saul, and the predictions in 
the latter end of the Revelations. Read also Marshall 
on Sanctification, Gilbert's Sermons, and Thomas a 
Kempis." 

April 20. — "A very little better. I could scarcely 
keep myself alive, and was much tried by evil temper. 

Employed in writing to , and Mr. ; but 

all I did was without energy; the long-wished for 
night came at last, and my feeble body found rest and 
restoration in sleep." 

April 21. — "Again the love and mercy of the 
Lord restored me to health and spirits. Began to write 
a sermon on walking in Christ and found my soul be- 
nefited by meditation on the subject. In the after- 
noon went on with translations. Arrived at sunset at 
Monghir." 

April 22. — " Spent the day at 's. Found two 

or three opportunities to speak to him about his soul. 

threw out some infidel sentiments, which gave 

me an opportunity of speaking. But to none of the 
rest was I able to say anything. Alas! in what a 
state are mankind every- where; living without God in 
the world. Married to ." 

April 23. — " After baptising a child of s, I left 

Monghir, and got on twenty-three miles towards Dina- 
pore: very sorrowful in mind, both from the recollection 
of having done nothing for the perishing souls I have 
been amongst ; and from finding myself so unqualified to 



TO MONOHIR. £01 

write on a spiritual subject which I had undertaken. 
Alas ! the ignorance and carnality of my miserable 
soul ! how contemptible must it be in the sight of 
God." 

April 24. — " Still cast down at my utter inability to 
write anything profitable on this subject; and at my 
execrable pride and ease of heart. O that I could 
weep in the dust, with shame and sorrow, for my wick- 
edness and folly ! Yet thanks are due to the Lord for 
shewing me, in this way, how much my heart has 
been neglected of late. I see by this, how great are 
the temptations of a missionary to neglect his own 
soul. Apparently outwardly employed for God, my 
heart has been growing more hard and proud. Let me 
be taught that the first great business on earth is to ob- 
tain the sanctification of my own soul ; so shall I fee 
rendered more capable also of performing the duties of 
the ministry, whether amongst the Europeans or hea- 
then, in a holy and solemn manner. Oh ! how I detest 
that levity to which I am so subject ! How cruel and un- 
feeling is it ! — God is my witness that I would rather, 
from this day forward, weep day and night, for the 
danger of immortal souls, r But my wickedness seems 
to take such hold of me, that I cannot escape; and my 
only refuge is to commit my soul, with all its corrup- 
tion into the hands of Christ, to be sanctified and saved by 
His almighty grace. For what can I do with myself; my 
heart is so thoroughly corrupt that I cannot keep myself 
one moment from sin. — Finished the Koran to-day, 
and considered with myself why I rejected it as an 
imposition, and the reasons appeared clear and con- 
vincing." 

*' The budgerow struck with such violence against a 
sand-bank, that a poor Mahometan boy, falling with all 
the rest, broke his arni. We did all that we could, but 
the cries of the poor boy went through my heart. At 
night a tremendous north-wester came on, but the Lord 
k«pt us in safety." 



203 HIS MINISTRY 

April 25. — " The morning employed, with little suc- 
cess, on the same subject. I still find it too spiritual 
for my carnal heart. My mind distressed with doubts 
whether I shall make the people observe the Sabbath, by 
causing them to lie by : but on considering, that they 
would not think it a favour, but on the contrary, a vex- 
ation — that they could not sanctify it — and that I had 
not given the Mangee notice before setting out, I resolv- 
ed to go on; though I felt by no means easy. Before 
Betting out again, I hope to make up my mind satisfac- 
torily on this subject." 

April 26. — " In prayer, at the appointed hour, I felt 
solemnity of mind and an earnest desire that the Lord 
would pour out a double portion of his Spirit upon us, 
his ministers in India ; that every one of us may be emi- 
nent in holiness and ministerial gifts. If I were to 
judge for myself, I should fear that God had forsaken 
his church ! for I am most awfully deficient in the 
know^ledge and experience requisite for a minister; 
but my dear brother Corrie, thanks be to God, is a 
man of a better spirit ! — may he grow more and more 
in grace, and continue to be an example to us ! Passed 
the day in reading and prayer, such as my prayers are. 
My soul struggled with corruption, yet I found the me- 
rit and grace of Jesus all-sufficient, and all-supporting. 
Though my guilt seemed like mountains, I considered 
it as no reason for departing from Christ, but rather for 
clinging to him more closely. Thus I got through the 
day, cast down, but not destroyed. The account of Da- 
vid's fall affected me more tenderly than ever it did, and 
I could not help weeping over the fall of that man of 
God. — Began Scott's Essays, and was surprised indeed 
at the originality and vigour of the sentiments and lan- 
guage. At eight arrived at Patna." 

April 27. — " Left Patna and arrived at Dinapore. 
The concourse of people in that great city was a so- 
lemn admonition to me to be diligent in study a 
prayer. Thousands of intelligent people together r 



AT DlNAPORtt. C03 

no sabbath — no word of God — no one to give them ad- 
vice : — how inscrutable the ways of God !" 

Mr. Martyn had no sooner returned to Dinapore, than 
he heard, to his sorrow and surprise, that the Ranee, to 
whom he had sent a Testament, together with some ad- 
vice upon the subject of religion — was about to dispatch 
a messenger to him, to request a letter of recommenda- 
tion to one of the judges, before whom she had a cause 
pending in which her dominions were at stake, " I 
felt hurt," he says, " at considering how low a sove- 
reign princess must have fallen to make such a request; 
but lost no time in apprising her, that our laws were 
perfectly distinct from the divine laws; and that, 
therefore, this was no affair of mine as she seemed to 
suppose it to be." 

In Mr. Martyn's schools, so much progress had now 
been made, that it became necessary to determine what 
books should be placed in the hands of the children who 
could read. To give them at first the book of theTa- 
rables which he had prepared for their use, would, it 
was feared, awaken suspicion in the breasts of their 
parents: who had already shewn much jealousy re- 
specting his designs. He therefore deemed it the 
wisest measure to permit them to use one of the Hindoo 
books, after having had it previously read to him. It 
was a book which, if it did no good, could, he thought, 
do no harm ; as it was an old Hinduwee poem, on an 
Avatar of Vishnu, which it was impossible for the chil- 
dren to understand. 

His judgment on this question — one of some difficulty 
and embarrassment — is thus given in a letter to Mr. 
Corrie. " Your schools flourish ; — blessed be God ! 
The Dinapore school is resorted to from all quarters, even 
from the other side of the river. The Bankipore school 
is also going on well. I do not institute more till I 
see the Christian books introduced. The more schools 
the more noise, and the more inquiry; and the greater 
suspicion of its being of a political nature. Besides, if 



tdi BIS MINISTRt 

all the schools were to come to a demur together, I fear 
their deciding against us : but if one or two schools, 
with much thought about it, comply with our wishes, 
it will be a precedent and example to others. I think 
you should not dictate which of their books should be 
given; but only reserve the power of rejecting, amongst 
those which they propose. I bless God that you are 
brought to act with me on a broad* and cautious plan : 
but I trust our motto will be, ' constant, though cau- 
tious ;' — never ceasing to keep our attention steadily 
fixed on the state of things ; and being swift to embrace 
every opportunity." ^: 

Amidst many causes of discouragement — from the 
inattention of the women who attended his expositions 
on the Sabbath — the general profanation of that holy 
day by Europeans, notwithstanding his solemn and re- 
peated remonstrances — and the vacillating condux'.t of 
some of his flock, whom he had hoped to have seen* 
stronger and bolder in their master's cause — a letter 
from a young officer, desiring, at this time, an acquaint-- 
ance with Mr. Martyn, on a religious account, was ta 
him a source of the most cheering delight. And yet^ 
even before the receipt of it, he could bless God, that 
he " felt impregnable to any discouragement." <' It 
was not," said he, " that I was indifferent, or that I 
saw some encouraging circumstances — but I was made 
to reflect, that I was the servant of God in these things, 
and that he would surely bring his purposes to pass, in 
some way or other." 

In addition to Mr. Martyn's studiesln Sanscrit, Per- 
sian, and Hindoostanee, we find him now sedulously 
employed in reading Leland against the deistical wri- 
ters; and thence drawing out arguments against the 
Koran. But being fearful lest, in the midst of these 
pursuits, his spirit should decline as to more important 
points, he thus speaks : — " May my soul, in prayer, 
never rest satisfied without the enjoyment of God ! — 
May all my thoughts be fixed on him ! May I sit so 



AT DINAPORE. ^0& 

loose to eveTy employment here, that I may be able^ 
at a moment's warning, to take my departure for anothefr 
world ! May I be taught to remember that ail other stu- 
dies are merely subservient to the great work of mi- 
nistering holy things to immortal souls ! May the moSt 
holy works of the ministry, and those which require- 
most devotedness of soul, be the most dear to iriy 
heart !" 

Mr. Martyn, whilst thus occupied, was called to the 
decision of a practical question of greater moment and 
difficulty, than that respecting the introduction of 
books into the schools^application having been made 
to him for baptism by one of the native women. This 
request, as the candidate manifested no signs of pe- 
nitence or faith, and could by no means be made to 
comprehend that anything further was necessary to 
constitute a Christian, than to say the Lord's Prayer 
—he found himself compelled to refuse. " The party,'' 
he writes, " went away in great distress, and I felt 
much for them ; but the Lord, I trust, will not suffer 
me to listen to my own feelings, and profane his holy 
ordinances." That this point had been a matter of anx- 
ious consideration with him, we learn from a letter to 
Mr. Corrie. "Your account of a native woman whom 
you baptised, came in season for me; I have been sub- 
jected to similar perplexities : but I think no one could 
refuse baptism in the case you mention. The woman 
who is now making the same petition here, promises 
to marry, and comes frequently for instruction ; but 
her heart is not touched with any tender sense of sin, 
or of her need of mercy. Yet if there be no scandal 
in her life ; and she profess her belief in those points 
on which candidates are interrogated in the baptismal 
service, may I lawfully refuse *? I cannot tell what to 
do ; but I seem almost resolved not to administer the 
ordinance, till convinced in my own mind of the true 
repentance of the person. The eventual benefit will 
be great, if we both steadily adhere to this purpose ;. 

S 



206 HIS HAPPINESS IK 

they will see that our Christians and those of the pa- 
pists are different ; and will be led to investigate what 
it is, which, in our opinion, is wanted*" The deter- 
mination to reject those candidates for admission into 
the Church of England, who were manifestly ignorant 
of the spirit of Christianity, though convinced of the 
truth of it — was fully adopted by Mr. Martyn, after 
mature consideration ; and the decision was doubtless 
agreeable to the word of God, and to the practice of 
the primitive times. 

Much time, as we have already seen, had been de- 
voted by Mr. Martyn to the translation of the Scrip- 
tures into Hindoostanee, both before and after he 
quitted Calcutta. To these exertions for the honour 
and glory of God, a ne# stimulus was added, in the 
month of June in this year, by a proposal from the 
Rev. David Brown, that he would engage more direct- 
ly in that important work ; in which he had already 
proceeded to the end of the Acts of the Apostles : and 
also, that he would superintend the translation of the 
Scriptures into Persian. This proposal he eagerly, 
. yet diffidently, accepted ; — and animated by the ex- 
pectation of beholding his labours brought to a suc- 
cessful termination, he prosecuted them with a delight 
commensurate with his ardent diligence. 

" The time fled imperceptibly," he observes, " while 
so delightfully engaged in the translations ; the days 
seemed to have passed like a moment. Blessed be 
God for some improvement in the languages ! May 
every thing be for edification in the church ! What do 
I not owe to the Lord, for permitting me to take part 
in a translation of his work : — never did I see such 
wonder and wisdom and love in the blessed book, as 
since I have been obliged to study every expression ; 
and it is a delightful reflection, that death cannot de- 
prive us of the pleasure of studying its mysteries." 

" All day on the translations : — employed a good 
while at night in considering adifficult passage ; and 



THE WORK OF TRANSLATION. 207 

being much enlightened respecting it, I went to bed 
full of astonishment at the wonder of God's word : ne- 
ver before did I see any thing of the beauty of the lan- 
guage and the importance of the thoughts as I do now. 
I felt happy that I should never be finally separated 
from the contemplation of them, or of the things about 
which they are written. Knowledge shall vanish away, 
but it shall be because perfection shall come. Then 
shall I see as I am seen, and know as I am known." 
" What a source of perpetual delight have I in the 
precious book of God ! O that my heart were more 
spiritual, to keep pace with my understanding ; and 
that I could feel as I know ! May my root and founda- 
tion be deep in love, and may I be able to ' comprehend, 
with all saints, what is the breadth, and length, and 
depth, and height, and to know the love of Christ 
which passeth knowledge !' And may I be filled with 
all the fulness of God !" He adds, in his accustomed 
spirit of incessant watchfulness — " May the Lord, in 
mercy to my soul, save me from setting up an idol of 
any sort in his place ; as I do by preferring even a 
work professedly done for him, to communion with 
him. How obstinate is the reluctance of the natural 
heart to love God ! But, O my soul, be not deceived ; 
thy chief work upon earth is, to obtain sanctification, 
and to walk with God. 'To obey is better than sacri- 
fice, end to hearken than the fat of rams.' Let me 
learn from this, that to follow the direct injunctions 
of God, as to my own soul, is more my duty, than to 
be engaged in other works, under the pretence of do^ 
ing him service." 



'MB THE DIHATH QF 

CHAPTER VII. 

MH. MARTYN RECEIVES INTELLIGENCE OF THE DEATH OJP 
HIS ELDEST SISTER LETTERS TO HIS FRIENDS — IS RE- 
MOVED TO CAWNPORE — HEARS OF THE DEATH OF HIS 
YOUNGEST SISTER — DETERMINES TO VISIT ARABIA AND 
•PERSIA — LEAVES CAWNPORE FOR CALCUTTA — DEPARTS 
FOR ARABIA. 

Scarcely had Mr. Martyn girded up his loina with 
the great and heavenly design of completing aversion 
of the scriptures in Hindoostanee, and of superintend- 
ing one in the Persian tongue — when the sovereign, 
wise, and infinite love of his God summoned him to 
-endure an affliction, more grievous than any which had 
befallen him since those first bitter tears which he 
shed at the death of his father. Apprehensions of the 
loss of his eldest sister had been excited in his mind, 
by some expressions she herself had dropped, in a let- 
ter which reached .him a few weeks before he received 
the fatal intelligence that she was no more. A period 
of torturing suspense terminated in one of inexpressi- 
;ble sorrow. But "blessed is the man whom thou 
.chastenest, O Lord." Gleams of this blessedness 
-shone forth from the cloud of that dark dispensation 
with which Mr. Martyn was now visited. " O my 
heart, my heart," he exclaimed, "is it, can it be true, 
that she has been lying so many months in the cdld 
grave ! Would that I could always— remember it, or 
always forget it ; — but to think for a moment of other 
things, and then to feel the remembrance of it coming, 
as if for the first time, rends my heart asunder. 
When I look around upon the creation, and think that 
her eyes see it not, but have closed upon it for ever 
— that I lie down in my bed, but that she has lain 
down in her grave — Oh ! is it possible ! I wonder to 
find myself still in life ; — that the same tie which 



Rid ELDEST SI8ITER. 209 

united us in life has not brought death at the same 
moment to both. O great and gracious God ! what 
should I do without Thee! But now thou art mani- 
festing thyself as the God of all consolation to my 
soul : — never was I so near thee : — I stand on the brink, 
and long to take my flight. There is not a thing in \ 
the world for which I could wish to live, except the I 
hope that it may please God to appoint me some work./ 
And how shall my soul ever be thankful enough to 
thee, O thou most incomprehensibly glorious Saviour 
Jesus ! O what hast thou done to alleviate the sor- 
rows of life ! and how great has been the mercy of 
God towards my family, in saving us all ! How dread- 
ful would be the separation of relations in death were , 
it not for Jesus." 

Mr. Martyn's mind, under this painful deprivation, 
was exceedingly comforted by a sure and certain hope, 
as it respected her for whom he mourned. That de- 
lightful expectation of meeting her in glory which he 
has now realised, was one powerful support to his 
heart, then overwhelmed within him : for the letter 
which contained the account of his loss, happily left 
him no room to doubt of his sister's eternal gain ; and 
that, through the grave and gate of death, she had 
passed into the consummation of bliss, in the eternal 
and everlasting kingdom of Christ. 

*' The European letter," he wrote to Mr. Brown, 
** contained the intelligence of the death of my eldest 
sister. A few lines received from herself about three 
weeks ago, gave me some melancholy forebodings of 
her danger. But though the Lord thus compassion- 
ately prepared me for -this affliction, I hardly knew 
how to bear it. We were more united in affection to 
each other, than to any of our relations : and now she 
is gone, I am left to fulfil as a hireling my day, and then 
I shall follow her. She had been many years under 
some conviction of her sins, but not till her last illness 
had she sought in earnest for salvation. Some weeks 
s 9 



'131:0 THE DEATH OP* 

before her death she felt the burden of sin, and cried 
earnestly for pardon and deliverance ; and continued in 
the diligent use of the appointed means of grace. Two 
days before her death — when no immediate danger 
was apprehended — my youngest sister visited her; 
and was surprised and delighted at the change which' 
had taken place. Her convictions of sin were deep 
and her views clear ; her only fear was on account of 
her own unworthiness. She asked, with many tears, 
whether there was mercy for one who had been, so 
great a sinner ; — though in the eyes of the world she 
had been an exemplary wife and mother ; — and said 
that she believed the Lord would have mercy upon 
her, because she knew he had wrought on her mind 
by His Spirit. Two days after this conversation, she 
suddenly and unexpectedly left this world of woe, while 
her sister was visiting a dying friend at a distance. 
This, you will tell me, is precious consolation ; indeed 
I am constrained to acknowledge that I could hardly 
ask for greater; for I had already parted with her for 
ever in this life; and in parting, all I wished for, was, 
to hear of her. being converted to God; and if it was 
his will, taken away in due time, from the evil to 
dome ; and brought to glory before me. Yet human 
nature bleeds ; — her departure has left this world a 
frightful blank to me ; and I feel not the smallest wish 
to live, except there be some work assigned for me to 
■do in the church of God." 

Acutely as Mr. Marty n sufFerejd, such importance 
did he attach to those studies which had in view the 
manifestation of the gospel to regions ' sitting in dark- 
ness and the shadow of death,' that he omitted the 
prosecution of them, at this period, only for a single 
day. It was- a duty, he thought, incumbent on him, to 
return to his work as soon as possible, however hea- 
vily his mind might be burdened; but his expressions 
many days afterwards declare into what depths of grief 
he was sunk. '^ My heart," said he, 'Ms still oppress- 



HIS ELDEST SISTER. 211 

ed, but it is not ' a sorrow that worketh death.' 
Though nature weeps at being deprived of all hopes 
of ever seeing this dear companion on earth ; faith is 
thereby brought the more into exercise. ' How swe??t 
to feel dead to all below; to live only for eternity; 
to forget the short interval that .lies between us and the 
spiritual world ; and to live always seriously, — The 
seriousness which this sorrow produces, is indescribably 
precious ; O that I could always retain it, when these 
impressions shall be worn away! — My studies have 
been the Arabic grammer, and Persian ; — writing 
Luke for the women, and dictating 1 Peter i. to my 
Moonshee. Finished the Gulistan of Sadi, and began 
it. again in order to mark all the phrases w^hich may 
be of use in the translation of the scriptures," 

One fruit of Mr. Martyn's prayers, and result of his 
prudence, was the successful introduction into his 
schools, shortly after this, of the Sermon on the Mount ; 
and on the 21st of September he had the exquisite joy 
of hearing the poor heathen boys reading the words of 
the Lord Jesus. * A wise man's heart, sai-th Solomon, 
* discerneth both time and judgment.' It was in this 
spirit of patient and dependent wisdom, that^ Mr, 
Martyn had acted respecting the schools ; and it was the 
same rare temper of mind which prevailed on him still 
to abstain from preaching publicly to the natives : 
again and again did he burn to begin his ministry in 
Patna; — but again and again did he feel deeply the 
importance of not being precipitate. It was not, how- 
ever, without much difficulty, that he checked the ar- 
dour of his zeal. He was determined to see what the 
institutions of schools and the quiet distribution of the 
scriptures would effect; and was convinced that public 
preaching at first was incompatible with his plan of 
procedure ; w^hereas it was clear that a way would thus 
be opened for preaching, of which object he never lost 
sight. It was this which made him resist the solicita- 
tions of those friends who would have detained him at 



213 IS SOLICITED to 

Calcutta; and this it was which now occasioned him 
to decline a very pressing invitation from Mr. Brown, 
urging him to take the Mission Church at the Presi- 
dency. Dinapore was in the midst of the heathen; 
and Dinapore, further, was a scene of tranquil retire- 
ment. These two considerations caused Mr. Martyn to 
refuse to comply with the very earnest desire of one 
whom he entirely esteemed and loved. "If ever I ara^ 
fixed at Calcutta," he wrote in reply, "I have done 
with the natives ; for notwithstanding previous deter- 
minations, the churches and people at Calcutta are 
enough to employ twenty ministers. This is one rea- 
son for my apparently unconquerable aversion to being 
fixed there. The happiness of being near and with you 
and your dear family, would not be a compensation for 
this disappointment ; and having said this I know of no 
stronger method of expressing my dislike to the mea- 
sure. If God commands it, I trust I shall have grace 
to obey: but let me beseech you all to take no step 
towards it; for I shall resist it as long as I can with a 
safe conscience." 

" I am happier here in this remote land," he wrote 
in his journal, '' where I hear so seldom of what hap- 
pens in the world, than in England, where there are so 
many calls to look at ' the things that are seen.' How 
sweet the retirement in which I here live. The pre- 
cious word is now my only study, in the work of 
translation. Though in a manner, buried to the 
world — neither seeing nor seen by Europeans — the 
time flows on here with great rapidity : it seems as if 
life would be gone before any thing is done, or even 
before any thing is begun. I sometimes rejoice that 
I am not tWenty-seven years of age ; and that, unless 
God should order it otherwise, I may double the num- 
ber in constant and successful labour. If not, God has 
many, many more instruments at command ; and I shall 
not cease from my happiness, and scarcely from my 
work, by departing into another world. Oh ! what shall 



HIMOVE TO CALCUTTA, 213 

separate us from the love of Christ ! Neither death 
nor life I am persuaded. Oh ! let me feel my security, 
that I may be, as it were, already in heaven ; that I may 
do all my work as the angels do theirs ; and oh ! let 
me be ready for every work! — be ready to leave this 
delightful solitude, or remain in it — to go out, or go 
in — to stay, or depart, just as the Lord shall appoint. 
Lord, let me have no will of my own ; nor consider my 
true happiness as depending in the smallest degree on 
any thing that can befal my outward man ; but as con- 
sisting altogether in conformity to God's will. May 
I have Christ here with me in this world ; not substi- 
tuting imagination in the place of faith ; but seeing 
outward things as they really are, and thus obtaining 
a radical conviction of their vanity." Mr. Martyn's 
spirits being much depressed by his recent affliction, an 
invitation, or rather entreaty, so strongly pressed upon 
him by one- who had a great share in his affection and 
esteem — but which called, as he conceived, for a direct 
and firm rejection — could not but be a matter of some 
disquiet to him. He had not, however, the additional 
pain of witnessing the slightest variation in his friend's 
attachment: a circumstance which does not always 
opcur on similar occasions : for the fondness even of 
Christian friendship will sometimes suffer an interrup- 
tion, from a disagreement respecting favourite projects 
and designs. 
To this perturbation of mind, comparatively light, a very 
severe disappointment from another quarter succeeded ; 
a disappointment intended, doubtless, like his other 
troubles, for the augmentation of his faith. Such 
strong representations had been made, by those whose 
judgment he highly valued, respecting the dreariness 
of a distant station in India, and the evils of solitude; 
that he had deemed it agreeable to the will of God to 
make an overture of marriage to her, for whom time 
had increased, rather than diminished, his affection. 
This overture, for reasons which afterwards commended 



214 SUrPERS A 

themselves to Mr. Martyn's own judgment, was now 
declined, on which occasion, suffering sharply as a 
man, but most meekly as a Christian, he said, " The 
Lord sanctify this ; and since this last desire of my 
heart is also withheld, may I turn away forever from 
the world, and henceforth live forgetful of all but God. 
With thee, O my God, is no disappointment. I shall 
never have to regret, that I have loved thee too well. 
Thou hast said, ' delight thyself in the Lord, and he 
shall give thee the desires of thy heart.' " 

"At first I was more grieved," he wrote sometime 
afterwards, " at the loss of my gourd, than for all the 
perishing Ninevahs around me: but now my earthly woes 
and earthly attachments seem to be absorbing in the vast 
concerns of communicating the gospel to these nations. 
After this last lesson from God, on the vanity of the 
creature, I feel desirous to be nothing — to have no- 
thing — to ask for nothing, but what he gives." 

Providentially for Mr. Martyn's comfort, his thoughts 
were much occupied, just after the receipt of this letter, 
by the arrival of his coadjutors in the work of translation: 
by one of them, Marza of Benares, well known in India 
as an eminent Hindostanee scholar ; the other, Sabat 
the Arabian, since but too well known, both in India 
and England, by his rejecting of that faith which he 
then appeared to profess in sincerity and truth. In the 
latter of these Mr. Marty n confidently trusted that he had 
found a Christian brother. Nor were these hopes re- 
specting Sabat's religious character more sanguine 
than both in reason and charity he-might fairly have 
entertained. Of his abilities a more favourable report 
had been made by Dr. Kerr of Madras ; who repre- 
sented him as a man of good family in Arabia — as 
having been employed as an expounder of Mahometan 
law at Mazuliptum — and as being well skilled in the 
literature of his country. With respect to the reality 
of his belief in Christianity, although Mr. Martyn 
immediately discovered in him an unsubdued Arab 



SEVERE DISAPPOINTMENT. 215 

spirit, and witnessed with pain, many deflections from 
that temper and conduct which he himself so eminently 
exemplified — yet he could not but ' believe all things, 
and hope all things/ even while htt continued to suffer 
much from him, and for a length of time, with un- 
paralleled forbearance and kindness. How could he 
allow himself to cherish any doubt, when he beheld 
the tears he shed in prayer, and listened to the confes- 
sions he made of his sinfulness, and to the professions 
he uttered of his willingness to correct whatever was 
reprehensible in his behaviour. No sooner had he ar- 
rived at Dinapore, than he opened to Mr. Martyn the 
state of his mind ; declaring, with seeming contrition, 
that the constant sin he found in his heart, filled him 
with fear. " If the spirit of Christ is given to believers, 
why," said he, *'am I thus, after three years believing? 
I determine every day to keep Christ crucified in sight; 
but soon I forget to think of him ! I can rejoice when 
I think of God's love in Christ : but then I am like a 
sheep that feeds happily whilst he looks only at the 
pasturage before him, but when he looks behind and 
sees the lion, he cannot eat. *' His life," he avowed, 
" was of no value to him ; the experience he had had 
of the instability of the world had weaned him from it ; 
his heart was like a looking-glass, fit for nothing ex- 
cept to be given to the glass-maker to be moulded 
anew." Can we wonder, concerning one who uttered, 
with apparent sincerity and much earnestness, senti- 
ments such as these — that Mr. Martyn should observe 
to Mr. Brown, who had sent him from Calcutta to Di- 
napore, that " not to esteem him a monument of grace, 
and to love him, is impossible." And truly, notwith- 
standing all that time has since developed, who will 
not hesitate in attributing to Sabat the guilt of a sys- 
tematic and well-concerted tissue of hypocrisy ; and 
prefer to conclude that his judgment was at that time 
enlightened, and his heart in some measure impressed 
with a sense of what he believed? Very soon, indeed, 



216 ARRIVAL OF SABAT. 

was Mr. Martyn called to rejoice over this Mahometan 
convert v^ith great fear and trembling; for scarcely 
had he reached Dinapore, w^hen the violence of his 
temper began to manifest itself. The first Sunday after 
his arrival, on coming to church, conceiving that all 
due respect was not shown him, he would not wait till 
service began, but abruptly left the church and return- 
ed home ; yet, on Mr. Martyn's expostulations on his 
turning his back upon the house of God, on account of 
an insult which was uninte'nded — he instantly confess- 
ed, with seeming humiliation, that he had two dispo- 
sitions ; the one, his old one, which was a soldier's^ 
a;nd the other a Christian's. 

Many other signs of an unhumbled spirit in Sabat 
gave rise to differences which were singularly distress- 
ing to a man of such meekness as Mr. Martyn. Even 
before the conclusion of that year, which when Sabat 
entered under Mr. Martyn's roof, was drawing to a close, 
he was so grieved at his spirit, that he could find re- 
lief only in prayer for him. Yet however disquieted 
he might and could not but be, at what he was called 
hourly to witness, in one brought into such near con- 
tact with him, and bearing the name of a Christian 
brother — his own mind nevertheless enjoyed a large 
measure of ' that perfect peace' in which those are 
kept whose minds are stayed on God. He was con- 
tinually "rejoicing in the solid ground of Jesus' im- 
puted righteousness ;" the greatness, the magnificence, 
the wisdom of which, filled his mindr; and he was con- 
tinually thinking, **0h! how is every hour lost 
that is not spent in love and contemplation of God, 
my God. O send out thy light and thy truth, that I 
may live always sincerely, always affectionately to- 
wards Thee !" "To live without sin, I cannot expect 
in this world ; but to desire to live without it may be 
the experience of every moment." And he closed the 
year like him who, at the end of a psalm of holy and 
joyful aspirations, exclaims, * I have gone astray like 



HIS MINISTRY AT DINAPORE. 217 

a lost sheep,' in the following strain of brokenness of 
spirit and abasement of soul : " I seem to myself per- 
mitted to exist only throiicrh the inconceivable com- 
passion of God. When I think of my shameful inca- 
pacity for the ministry, arisintr from my own neglect, 
I see reason to tremble, though I cannot weep. I 
ftel willing to be a neglected outcast, unfit to be 
made useful to others, provided my dear brethren are 
prosperous in their ministry." 

In the midst of various weighty employments, and of 
much tribulation, Mr. Marty n passed into the year 
1808'; on the first day of which, he thus reverted to 
his past life ! " Few or no changes have occurred in 
the course of the last year. I have been more settled 
than for many years past. The events which have 
taken place, most nearly interesting to myself, are my 

sister's death, and my disappointment about L ; 

on both these afflictions I have seen love inscribed and 
that is enough. What I think I want, it is better still 
to want : but I am often wearied with this world of 
woe. I set my affections on the creature, and am then 
torn from it; and from various other causes, particularly 
the prevalence of sin in my heart, I am often so fall 
of melancholy, that I hardly know what to do for relief. 
Sometimes I say, ' that I had wings like a dove, then 
would I flee away and be at rest;' at other times, in 
my sorrow about the creature, I have no wish left for 
my heavenly rest. It is the grace and favour of God 
that have saved me hitherto : my ignorance, wayward- 
ness, and wickedness would long since have plunged 
me into misery ; but there seems to be a mighty exer- 
tion of mercy and grace upon my sinful nature, every 
day, to keep me from perishing at last. My attain- 
ments in the divine life, in this last year, seem to be 
none at all ; I appear, on the contrary, to be more self- 
willed and perverse ; and more like many of my 
countrymen, in arrogance and in a duminccring spirit over 
the natives. The Lord save me from my wickedness ! 
T 



218 HIS MINISTRY 

Henceforth let my soul, humbly depending upon the 
grace of Christ, perfect holiness in the fear of God, 
and shew towards all, whether Europeans or natives, 
the mind that was in Christ Jesus." 

In the beginning of this year Mr. Martyn's situation 
at Dinapore was rendered far less agreeable than 
heretofore — much as he loved retirement — by the re- 
moval of the only family with whom he lived upon 
terms of Christian intimacy ; a family for whom he 
had no common affection ; to whom he had been the 
means of first imparting serious impressions ; whom he 
had exhorted, watched over, and prayed for, and 
whom he unceasingly followed with his interces- 
sions, when he could no longer reach them with his 

exhortations. " The departure of ," he writes, 

"seemed to leave me without human comfort; my 
regard for them has increased very much of late ; I 
have seen marks of grace more evidently. It is 
painful to be deprived of them just at this time ; 
yet the Lord knoweth them that are his, and will keep 
them through faith unto eternal salvation." The 

following is an extract of a letter to Mrs, on this 

occasion, , -, 

'•■-1! .^^^i^m^ ^r^-^-^.n ^^ Dinapore, January, 8, 1808. 

"Your departure has left the Arab and me in such 
gloom that I cannot yet find in his society a supply 
for yours. I still continue, therefore, one of your 
camp-followers ; often every day accompanying you in 
my thoughts as you travel along ; and I now dispatch 
some china-paper, to overtake you, and assure you 
once more of my good wishes and prayers. After 
leaving you on Monday, I crossed the river and so- 
lemnized the nuptials of , without the interven- 
tion of any thing untoward. Next morning, at Patna, 
I walked out in hopes of having one more sight of the 
battalion and my friends in it. But some of the slow- 
moving baggage hackeries only in the rear, shewed 
where you had passed. The nearness of your second 



AT DINAPORE. 219 

Jay's camp waf5 a strong temptation to add myself 
again to your number; and it might have been easily 
accomplished, but the pain of repeated farewells de- 
terred me from going. So I set my face towards 
Dinapore again, and now as often as I traverse, in my 
evening walk, the spot where the pale grass marks 
your former abode ; and as often asl bring out the Koran 
from the book-room, without taking up the Hebrew for 
you, I join with Sabat in regretting that *the faithful is 
gone.' But only continue to deserve the name, my 
dear friends, and we shall sorrow the less at your de- 
parture. Cleave to him, in duty — in affection — in. 
bearing his reproach — and we are never separated. 
If I am so happy as to hear good tidings of you, and 
that you grow in faith and love, I shall be contented. 
Friendship must not selfishly repine at a separation 
appointed by God. Yesterday a letter came from 

P , who says that trials are atraiting you; — 

that your gay friends will oppose, &c. — but enter 
Berhampore armed with strong resolutions, and de- 
pending on the grace that is in Christ Jesus, and you 
will stand firm." t; 

This separation affected him the more sensibly, be- 
cause it was not in every family at that station that he 
met with a kind, much less a cordial reception. '* I 
called," says he, " on the 15th of - January, on one of ^ 
. the Dinapore families ; and felt my pride rise at the 
uncivil manner in which I was received. I was dis- 
posed at first to determine never to visit the house 
again, but I remembered the words — 'Overcome evil 
with good.' " 

So much as Mr. Martyn was concerned for the sal- 
vation of the heathen, it will readily be surmised that 
the state of the Native Christians — sunk as they were 
into a condition of equal ignorance and wickedness 
with the heathen — would excite his peculiar sympa- 
thy and anxiety. Tiieir lamenta])le case was never 
forgotten by him. At the commencement of the present 



1220 HIS MINISTRV 

year, especially, it lay so near his heart, that he re- 
solved to ascertain what might he effected at Patna 
in behalf of those wretched people, who ' had a name 
to live, but were dead*' Without loss of time, there- 
fore, he made an offer to the Roman Catholics there, 
of preaching to them on Sundays; — but the proposal 
was rejected. Had it been accepted, he proposed to 
have made it the ground-work of a more extensive publi- 
cation of the gospel to the inhabitants at large. 
" Millions perishing," he said, much affected at the 
reflection, " in the neigborhood of one who can preach 
the gospel to them ! how wonderful ! I trust the Lord 
will soon open a great and effectual door. Oh ! for 
faith, zeal, courage, love!" 

In consequence of the state of the weather at this 
season of the year, the public celebration of divine 
service on the sabbath was suspended for a considera- 
ble time at Dintpore ; a circumstance as painful to Mr. 
iviartyn, as it was pleasing to the careless and world- 
ly part of his congregation. Upon the serious incon- 
venience, and yet more serious detriment to the 
spiritual interest of his flock, arising from the want 
of a church, he had already presented a memorial to 
the governor-general : and orders to provide a proper 
place for public worship had been issued : nothing 
^effectual however was yet done ; and Mr. Martyn's 
love for the souls entrusted to him, not allowing him 
to bear the thoughts of their being scattered for a length 
of time as sheep without a shepherd — he came to the 
resolution of opening his own house, as a place in 
which the people might assemble in this emergency. 
About the middle of February he writes, " As many 
of the European regiment as were effective were ac- 
commodated under my roof — and praised be God, we 
had the public ordinances once more. My text was 
from Isaiah, iv. 5. ' The Lord will create upon every 
dwelling place of Mount Zion,and upon her assemblies, 
a cloud and smoke by day, and the shining of a flaming 



AT DINAPORE. 221 

fire by niglit : for upon all the glory shall be a defence.' 
In the afternoon, I waited for the women, but not one 
came ; perhaps, by some mistake, notice had not been 
given them. At the hospital, and with the men at night, 
I was engaged as usual, in prayer — my soul panted 
after the living God, but it remained tied and bound 
with corruption. I felt as if I could have given the 
world to be brought to be alone with God ; and the pro- 
mise that ' this is the will of God, even our saijctifica- 
tion' — was the right hand that upheld me while I 
followed after Him. When low in spirits, through an 
unwillingness to take up the cross, I found myself 
more resigned in endeavouring to realise the thought 
which had often composed me in my trials on board 
the ship — namely, that I was born to suffer — that 
suffering is my appointed daily portion ; let this recon- 
cile me to every thing ! To have a will of my own, not 
agreeable to God's, is a most tremendous wickedness. 
I own it is so, for a few moments : but Lord write it 
on my heart ! In perfect meekness and resignation 
let me take whatever befalls me in the path of duty, 
and never dare to think of being dissatisfied. 

As far as it respected Mr. Martyn's health, a tempo- 
rary interruption of his ministerial duty would have 
proved a favourable occurrence : he was beginning again 
to suffer from some severe pains in the chest, which first 
attacked him in the autumn of the preceding year. De- 
siring to be as 'a flame of fire in the service of his 
God, and panting for the full employment of every day, 
. the early morning, as well as the closing evening, found 
him engaged in his delightful lab ours : but he perceived 
that the body could not keep pace with the soul, in this 
career of unceasing activity : " the earthly tabernacle 
weighed down the spirit whilst musing upon many 
things," and compelled him, for a while at least, to 
moderate the vehemence of these exertions. By the 
month of March, however, the great work, for which 
myriads in the ages yet to come will gratefully re- 
T 2 



223 AN ATTACK 

member and revere the name of Marty n — the Version 
of the New Testament in Illndoosianee — was broiig-hlto 
a completion; nor — if we consider how much time ho 
had spent upon it, ever since he arrived at Calcutta, 
and how laboriously he prosecuted it, after Mr. Brown 
had summoned him to direct all his efforts to that end 
— can it be affirmed that it was hurried to a conclusion 
with a heedless and blameable precipitancy. 

*' 'Twas not the hasty product of a day ; 
'■■■ But the well-ripened fruit of wise delay." 

*' It is a real refreshment to my spirit," Mr, Martyn 
temarks to Mr. Corrie, just at the moment of sending 
off the first page of the Testament to Calcutta, in the 
beginning of April, " to take up my pen to write to you. 
Such a week of labour I believe I never passed, not 
excepting even the last week before going into the 
Senate-House. I have read and corrected the manu- 
script copies of my Hindoostanee Testament so often 
that my eyes ache. The heat is terrible, often at 98° ; 
the nights insupportable." Such was his energy in a 
climate tending to beguile him into ease and indo- 
lence so entirely " whatsoever he had to do," did he 
*' do it with all his might." 

Throughout the remainder of the year 1808, till his 
removal to Cawnpore, Mr. Marty n's life flowed on in 
the same tranquil course of usefulness and uniformity. 
He was occupied in revising the sheets of the Hindoo- 
stanee version of the New Testament, w^hich he had 
completed ; — he superintended the Persian translation 
confided to Sabat; — he gave himself to the study of 
Arabic, that he might be qualified to take part with 
Sabat in another version of the New Testament into 
that tongue ; — he continued also to minister to the Eu- 
ropeans and the natives at the hospital ; and he daily 
received the more religious part of his flock at his own 
house whilst his health permitted. A serious attack 
similar to that which he experienced on his journey to 



OF ILLNESS. 233 

Portsmouth, occurred towards the end of the summer 
and was productive of the following effusion, bearing 
a pre-eminent impress of the Spirit of God. No one, 
surely, ever touched a string more in unison with the 
harps of angels and saints in light, than he who wrote 
thus on the evening of a day expected to be his last. 

" I little thought to have had my faith brought to a 
trial so soon. This morning, while getting up, I found 
a pain in the centre of my body, which increased to such 
a degree, that fever and vertigo came on, and I fainted. 
The dreadful sensation was like what I once felt in 
England, but by no means so violent or long-conti- 
nued ; — as then, also, I was alone. After recovering my 
senses, and lying in pain w^hich made me almost 
breathless, I turned my thoughts to God ; and Oh ! 
praise to his grace and love, I felt no fear ; — but I 
prayed earnestly that I might have a little relief to set 
my house in order and make my will. I also thought 
with pain of leaving the Persian gospels unfinished. 
By means of some ether, the Lord gave me ease, and 
I made my will. The day was spent in great weakness, 
but my heart was often filled with the sweetest peace 
and gratitude for the precious things God hath done 
for me." 

" I found delight at night in considering, from the 
beginning, all that God had done- in creation, provi- 
dence, and grace, for my soul. O God of love, how 
shall I praise Thee ! happiness, bliss for ever, lies be- 
fore me. Thou hast brought me upon this stage of 
life to see what sin and misery are ; — myself, alas ! 
most deeply partaking in both. But the days and the 
works of my former state, fraught with danger and 
with death, are no more ; and the God of benevolence 
and love hath opened to me brighter prospects. Thine 
I am ; " My beloved is mine, and I am his ;" and 
now I want none but Thee. I am alone with Thee in 
this world ; and when I put off this mortal tabernacle. 
' shall still be with Thee, whatever that unknown 



224 CORRESPONDENCE DURING 

change may be ; and I shall be before Thee, not to re- 
ceive honour, bat to ascribe praise. Yes ! I shall 
then have power to express my feelings ; I shall then 
without intermission, see and love ; and no cloud of 
sorrow overcast my mind. I shall then sing in worthy, 
everlasting strains, the praises of that divine Redeem- 
er, whose works of love now reach beyond my con- 
ception." 

From the even tenor of his life at this period, it can- 
not be expected that incidents of a very striking na- 
ture should arise; yet the description which he him- 
self has given of it in the following extracts, drawn 
chiefly from a free and frequent correspondence with 
his endeared friends and brethren, the Rev. David 
Brown and the Rev. Daniel Corrie, will not be wholly 
devoid of interest to those who have hitherto watched 
him, with love and admiration, on his way to heaven. 

<'' April U, 1808. 

*' This day I have received yours of the 8th : like 
the rest of your letters, it set my thoughts on full gal- 
lop, from which I can hardly recover my breath. Sa- 
bat's letter I hesitate to give him, lest it should make 
him unhappy again. He is at this moment more quiet 
and Christian in his deportment than I have yet seen 
him. Arabic now employs my few moments of leisure. 
In consequence of reading the Koran with Sabat, audi- 
bly, and drinking no wine, the slander has gone forth 
amongst the Christians at Patna — that the Dinapore 
Padre has turned Mussulman. — 

To the Rev. D. JBroTim. 

'' Jpril 26, nOS. 
" This day I sent off a chapter of Hindoostanee, 
of St. Matthew. The name I design for my work 
is — Benoni, the son of my affliction : for through great 
tribulation will it come out. Sabat has kept me much 
upon the fret this week : when he had reached the 
ninth chapter, the idea seized him, that Mirza might 



THIS PERIOD. 225 

receive some lionoiir from bis inspectiuo- the work. He 
stopped immediately ; and, say what I will, he deter- 
mines not to give mc the smallest help in correcting 
the Hindoostanee. 

" To thclicv. I). JBroivn:' 

''May 9, 1808. 

" Sabat having'one of his head-aches, leaves me at 
liberty to take a complete sheet. This wetjk has 
passed as usual in comparing the Persian and Greek ; 
yet we are advanced no further than the end of the 
15th of Matthew. Notwithstanding the vexation and 
disappointment Sabat has occasioned me, I have en- 
joyed a more peaceable week than ever since his ar- 
rival. I do not know how you find the heat, but here 
it is dreadful : in one person's quarters yesterday it was 
at 102 degrees: perhaps it was on that account that 
scarcely any women came. Another reason I assign 
is, that I rebuked one of them last Sunday, yet very 
gently, for talking and laughing in the church before I 
came ; so yesterday they shewed their displeasure by not 
coming at all. I spoke to them on the Parable of the 
Great Supper : the old woman, who is always so ex- 
emplary in her attention, shed many tears ; I have 
sometimes endeavoured to speak to her, but she de- 
clines conversation. I feel interested about her, there 
is so much sorrow and meekness depicted in her coun- 
tenance; but she always crosses herself after the ser- 
vice is over. Yesterday, for the first time, I baptized 
a child in Hindoostanee. My Europeans, this week, 
have not attended very well ; — fifteen only, instead of 
twenty-five ; some of them, indeed, are in the hospi- 
tal ; and the hospital is a town of itself ; — howshall I 
ever be faithful to them all. 

" To the Rev. B. Corrie,'' 

''May 51, 1808. 
" Yours of the 24th instant arrived to-day, and re- 
lieved me from much anxiety respecting your own 



226 CORRESPONDENCE DURING 

health. Still you do not say whether the Elindoostanee 
sheets have arrived. I do not wonder at your inquir- 
ing about the Persian. To day we finish comparing 
St. Matthew with the Greek, if it may be called a com- 
parison ; for, partly owing to the errors of the scribe, 
rendering whole verses unintelligible — and partly on 
account of Sabat's anxiety to preserve the rhythm, 
vrhich often requires the change of a whole sentence 
for a single word — it is a new translation. We have 
laboured hard at it to-day ; from six in the morning 
till four in the afternoon." 

''To the Rev, D. Brown,'' 

: > ''June 6, ISOS. ' 

"To-day we have completed the Persian of St. 
Matthew, and to-morrow it is to be sent off to be printed. 
Sabat desired me to kneel down to bless God for the 
happy event, and we joined in praise of 'the Father 
of Lights.' It is a superb performance in every respect. 
Sabat is prodigiously proud of it : I wish some mis- 
takes may not be found in it, to put him to shame. 
Among the events of the last week is the earthquake ; 
we were just reading the passage of the 24th of Mat- 
thew, on ''earthquakes in divers places, when I felt 
my chair shake under me ; then some pieces of the 
plaster fell ; on which I sprang up and ran out : — the 
doors had still a tremulous motion. The edition of the 
Gospel must be announced as ' printed at the expense 
of the British and Foreign Bible Society.' 

" To tlie Rev. J). Carrie,'' — 

"Jwie7, 1808. 

" This day we have sent the Persian of St. Mat- 
thew. Sabat is not a little proud of it. Your design 
of announcing the translation, as printed at the expense 
of the British and Foreign Bible Society, I highly 
approve ; I wish to see honour put upon so godlike an 
Institution. Mirza returned yesterday, and again there 
are symptoms of disquiet in Sabat. Pray for us, 

^* To the Rev. D. Broxm,'' 



Tnis PERIOD* 227 

Baiiklpore, June 23, 1808. ^ 
" I groan at the wickedness and infidelity of men 
and seem to stretch my neck every way to espy a 
righteous man. All at Dinapore treat the gospel 
with contempt ; here there is nothing but infidelity. I 
am but just arrived, and am grieved to find in my old 

friend less proofs of real acquaintance with the 

gospel than I used to hope. On my way here I called 

on Col. , and advised him to marry or separate; — 

the alternative T am ever insisting on. As soon as I arriv- 
ed, Mr. informed me that the reason why no one 

came to hear me was, ' that I preached faith without 
w^orks,and that little sins are as bad as great ones,' and 
that thus I tempted them to become great sinners. A 
young civilian, who some time ago came to me desir- 
ing satisfaction on the evidences of Christianity, and to 
whom I spoke very freely, and with some regard, as I 
could not doubt his sincerity, now holds me up to ridi- 
cule. Thus, through evil report, we go on. Oh ! my 
brother ! how happy I feel, that all have not forsaken 
Christ; that I am not left alone even in India. ' Cast 
thy burden on the Lord, and he shall sustain thee,' is 
the text I carry about with me, and I can recommend it 
to any body as an infallible preservative from the fever 
of anxiety. 

" To the Rev. I). Corrie.^' 

''June2Q, 1808. 
" The day after I wrote to you from Bankipore, I 
called on the Nawaub, Babir Ali Khan, celebrated for 
his sense and liberality. I staid two hours with him, 
conversingin Persian, but badly. He began the theo- 
logical discussion by requesting me to explain neces- 
sity and free-will ; I instantly pleaded ignorance. He 
gave his own opinion ; on which 1 asked him for his 
proofs of the religion of Mahomet. His first argument 
was the eloquence of the Koran, but he at last acknow- 
ledged that this was insufficient. I then brought 



228 CORRESPONDENCE DURING 

forward a passage or two in the Koran, containing 
sentiments manifestly false and foolish ; he flourished 
a good deal, but concluded, by saying that I must wait 
till I could speak Persian better, and had read their 
logic. His whole manner, look, authority, and copi- 
ousness, reminded me constantly of Dr. . This 

was the first visit, and I returned highly delighted with 
his sense, candour, and politeness. Two days after I 
went to breakfast with him, and conversed with him in 
Hindoostanee. He inquired what were the principles 
of the Christian Religion; 1 began with the Atonement, 
the divinity of Christ, the corruption of human nature, 
the necessity of regeneration, and a holy life. He 
seems to wish to acquire information, but discovers no 
spiritual desire after the truth. So much for this Mus-. 
sulman lord ; now for Antichrist in another shape — 
the Popish padre, Julius Caesar. I asked him whether 
the doctrine I had heard from the Franciscan brethren 
in America was his ; — Extra Ecclesiam Romanam salus 
non esse potest P He said that it was a question on 
which disputations were constantly held at Rome. By 
some means we got upon the additions made to the 
Commandments by the Church of Rome ; he said that 
Christianity without Councils was a city without walls ; 
and that Luther, Calvin, &c. had made additions: all 
which I denied, and shewed him the last verses in the 
Revelations. Upon the whole, our conversation seemed 
without benefit. 

'* To t/w Mev, D: Corne,*' — 

''J2ily,% 1808. 
" My work is very delightful in itself, but it is dou- 
bly so by securing me so much of your correspondence. 
My eyes seized your beloved hand-writing with more 
eagerness than even if the letter had been from Europe. 
I rejoice with you, and praise God for one gospel in 
Persian. With elegance enough to attract the careless 
and please the fastidious— it contains enough of Eternal 



THIS PERIOD. 229 

Life to save the reader's soul ; therefore, if we do no 
more, we are happy that something is done. We arc 
safe with the Hindoostauee : it wants hut little correc- 
tion, and incase of my death, could he easily prepared 
by any one. I am anxious to hear of the new plans 
you are about to propose to me: let them not be in the 
way of recreation ; my only exertion, and that, through 
indolence, is small, is to keep my heart rightly disposed 
to minister to my congregation at night. I shrink from 
the idea of Sanscrit: the two or three months I spent 
in striving to penetrate its unwieldy grammar were more 
painful to me, than any since the sorrowful days when 
I first began to learn Greek. 
" To tlie Eev. D. Broivn.'' 

Julj/i, 1808. 
*' I have received no letter from you this w^eek. 
When Sunday came and no letter arrived from you, I 
began to entertain the romantic notion that perhaps my 
brother himself would come and preach for me at night. 
I am now on my way to Patna by water. The Italian 
Padre came to Dinapore again on Saturday, but did not 
call upon me : the men sent him a letter, to which he 
replied in French, that he lamented he could not speak 
their language, but should remember them in his prayers, 
and spoke of them as brethren in Christ. When he 
came into the barracks, the Catholics crowded round 
him by hundreds, and in a tone of triumph pointed out 
his dress — that of a Franciscan friar — to the Protestants, 
contrasting it with that of a Clergyman of the Church 
of England, booted and spurred, and ready for a hunt. 
The catholics in this regiment amount to a full thousand — 
the protestants are scarcely discernible. Who would 
think that we should have to combat Antichrist again 
at this day ] I feel my spirit roused to preach against 
popery with all the zeal of Luther. How small and 
unimportant arc the hair-splitting disputes of the blessed 
people at home, compared with the formidable agents 
IT 



230 CORRESPONDENCE DURING. 

of the devil with whom we have to combat here ! There 
are four castes of people in India : the first, heathen ; 
the second, Mahometans ; the third, papists ; the fourth, 
infidels. Now I trust that you and I are sent to fight 
this four-faced devil, and by the help of the Lord Jesus, 
whom we serve, we will. 1 was rather apprehensive 
yesterday that my female hearers would have forsaken 
me ; but they came as usual, and the words, * Search the 
scriptures,' occurring in the chapter of the day, I took 
occasion to point out to them the wickedness of the 
church of Rome, in forbidding the use of the scrip- 
tures. 

'< To tJie Rev. D. Corrie.'' 

''Julyil, 1808. 
" A loquacious Brahmin having interrupted us in 
our work, I leave him to Sabat, and turn my thoughts 
with more pleasure Chunar-ward. My last letter left 
me at Patna. The catholic Padre, Julius Caesar, had 
gone to Dinapore that very day, to say mass; but at 
Babir All's I met with a very agreeable Armenian 
Padre, named Martin, who kept my tongue employed 
nearly the whole of the day. I tried him once or twice 
in spiritual things, but on these he had nothing 
to say. His dress was a little black cassock, exactly 
such as we wear, or ought to wear : the top of his head 
was shaved like the Franciscans. I am almost ashamed 
of my secular appearance before these very venerable 
and appropriate figures. — The Catholics in the regiment 
are a thousand strong ; and are disposed to be malicious : 
they respect me, however, and cannot help thinking 
that I have been taught by Roman catholics, or have 
been in some way connected with them : at the hospi- 
tal, the greater number kept themselves aloof. My 
society, this week, has occasioned me great trouble ; 
one man was the occasion of it : still his professions, 
and earnestness not to be excluded, make it diflicult 
to know how to deal with him. Certainly there i& 



THIS PERIOD. 231 

infinitely better discipline in the Romish church than 
in ours, and if ever I were to be the pastor of native 
Chi'istians, I should endeavour to govern with equal 
strictness. My female hearers do not give me half 
such encouragement as yours ; probably because I do 
not take such pains with them ; yet there is no trouble 
I would spare, if I knew how to reach their minds. 
They were only fourteen yesterday. I spoke to them 
on the text, ' Lord, to whom shall we go 1 thou hast the 
words of eternal life.' To whom shall we go 1 — To the 
Padre — to the Virgin Mary — to the Saints — to the 
world — to works — to repentance ? No ; to Christ. 
"To the Rev. D. Carrie.''' 

'' Juli/ IS, iSOS, 
" I mentioned to you that I had spoken very plainly 
to the women last Sunday, on the delusions of the 
papists : yesterday only seven came. I ascribed it to 
what 1 had said , but to-day Sabat tells me that they 
pour contempt upon it all. Sabat, insteafof comforting 
and encouraging me in my disappointments and trials, 
aggravates my pain by contemptuous expressions of the 
perfect inutility of continuing to teach them. He may 
spare his sarcastic remarks, as I suppose that after 
another Sunday none at all will come. I find no relief 
but in prayer : to God I can tell all my griefs, and find 
comfort. Last Tuesday the Padre, Julius Ceesar, came 
and staid with me four hours. We argued with great 
vehemence : when I found that he had nothing to say 
in defence of the adoration of the Virgin Mary and the 
saints, I solemnly charged him and his church with the 
sin of idolatry : — he started, and said that if I had uttered 
such a sentiment in Italy, I should have been burned. 
He certainly seems sincere ; and at one time he lifted 
up his eyes and prayed that I might not convert him, 
and that God would never suffer the Protestant religion 
to enter Italy. His main argument against me was, 
tiie disorder and impiety prevalent among the Protes- 



233 CORRfeSPONDENCE DURING 

tants, whom he had had an opportunity of observing in 
Geneva and Leghorn. This disputation has brought 
us to be quite familiar in our acquaintance; he looked 
over all my books, and found a French one, called ' the 
Crimes of the Popes ;' v^hich he desired to have ; but 
recollected afterwards that his coadjutor might see it. 
I feel a regard for him : he is a serious and unassuming 
young man. 

'* To the Rev. I), Corrie,'' 

« August 8, 1808. 

'' One day this week, on getting up in the morning, 
I was attacked with a very serious illness. I thought 
I was leaving this world of sorrow ; and praised be the 
God of grace, I felt no fear. The rest of the day I was 
filled with sweet peace of mind, and had near access to 
God in prayer. What a debt of love and praise do 
we owe ! Yesterday I attempted to examine the women 
who attended (in number about thirty) in Christian 
knowledge : they were very shy, and said that they 
could say no prayers but in Portuguese. It appears 
that they were highly incensed, and went away, saying 
to Joseph, ' We know a great deal more than your 
Padre himself.' The services much weakened me 
after my late attack. 

*« To the Rev, B. Corrier 

" August 8. 1808. 
*' I called on the Commander-in-chief here on Satur- 
day morning, and was received very graciously. I 
told him that it was a duty we owed to God, as a nation, 
to erect churches ; and asked whether Lord Minto was 
disposed to go on with it ; to which he replied in the 
affirmative. I enlarged on the shame I felt in my 
disputes with the Popish Padres as often as they threw 
out reflections on the utter disregard of the Protestants 
to religion, Julius, the Padre, has been here twice 
this week, but stayed only a very short time. He 



THIS PERIOD. 233 

began to assert, with great vehemence, the necessity 
of an infallible judge, in order to settle all disputes on 
religion ; and mentioned how much he had been agi- 
tated by his last dispute with me : he could do nothing 
but walk about that night ; — yet looked up to God and 
became tranquil. The men are fast dying in the hospi- 
tal, yet they would rather be sent to Patna for some holy 
oil, than hear the word of eternal life. — Two or three 
of my evening hearers are in the hospital ; one is pre- 
pared to die; blessed sight ! The Persian of St. Mark 
is to be sent to-morrow, and five chapters of Luke, 
to be corrected. There is no news from down the 
stream ; but always glad tidings for us from the world 
above. 

''Tothe Rev, D, Corrie.'' 

*'J.upist, 15, 1808. 

" Glad am I that we are likely to meet so soon ; 
may it be ' in the fulness of the blessing of the gos- 
pel of peace.' Last week Mahomed Babar, the Ma- 
homedan lord and Padre Martino, spent three days 
here. Little, I am sorry to say has been done. Sabat 
did not appear to advantage : instead of speaking about 
the gospel to Babar, he was reciting poetry, particularly 
his own ; and seemed more arixious to gain admirers than 
converts. We did, however, at last converse about re- 
ligion ; but Mahomed confessed himself an infidel, and 
required proof for the truth of any religion. Sabat was 
not prepared for this, so I attempted to speak to Babar 
upon the nature of probable evidence: but he did not 
understand me : so this came to nothing. One day we sat 
down to dinner before Sabat came, and, to our great asto- 
nishment, he rebuked us, with much wrath and pride. 
With all Babar's gentleness, he rebuked him in his 
turn ; and told him that the Persians and English knew 
how to behave, but the Arabs did not. Babar was so 
lavish in his compliments to us all, that it was diffi- 
cult to get at his real sentiments* but he praised Sa- 
u2 



234 CORRESPONDENCE DURING 

bat's Persian translation to the stars ; which I was 
glad to hear. As for the poor Padre, with an exterior 
so imposing that you would think St. Peter himself 
was present, he knows nothing at all : I tried him on 
spiritual things again and again ; — but he could say no- 
thing. Alas how fallen from what their fathers were ! 
When shall the churches of Asia recover their ancient 
glory ] You will see the Nabob and Padre soon I 
hope. Last Tuesday we sent off the Persian of St. Mark* 

" To the Rev, B, Corrie.'' 

<' September 9, 180a. 

" Corrie is here, and likely to remain, to my joy. 
You will have some happy hours together, I doubt 
not : with all your cares and trials, you claim all the 
consolation we can give ; and you shall have more than 
that, if we can obtain any thing for you by our prayers. 
Corrie will bring you but a poor account of my con- 
gregation : I am much neglected on all sides, and with- 
out the work of translation I should fear that my pre- 
sence in India were useless. 

^^ To the Eev. B. Brown," 

" October, 1808. 
" I deserve your reproot for not having written to 
you oftcner; and I am pained at the anxiety I have 
thoughtlessly occasioned you. I console myself, how- 
ever, by reflecting that a letter must have reached you 
a few weeks after you sent your last. I am sorry that I 
have not good accounts to give of my health ; yet no dan- 
ger is to be apprehended. My services on the Lord's 
day always leave me a pain in the chest, and such a 
great degree of general relaxation, that I seldom recover 
it till Tuesday. A few days ago I was attacked with a 
fever which, by the mercy of God, lasted but two days. 
I am now well, but must be more careful for the future. 
In this debilitating climate the mortal tabernacle is frail 
indeed, my mind seems as vigorous as ever, but my 
delicate frame soon calls for relaxation ; and Fifflust 



THIS PERIOD. S35 

nve it, though unwillingly ; lor such glorious fields 
for exertion open all around, that I could with pleasure 
be employed from morning to night. It seems a 
providential circumstance, that the work at present 
assigned me is that of translation ; for had I gone 
through the villages preaching, as my intention led 
me to do, I fear that by this time I should have been 
in a deep decline. In my last I gave you a general 
idea of my employments. The society still meet every 
night at my quarters, and though we have lost many 
by death, others are raised up in their room ; one officer, 
a Lieutenant, is also given to me; and he is not only 
a brother beloved, but a constant companion and nurse; 
so yon must feel no apprehension that I should be left 
alone in sickness ; neither on any other account should 
you be uneasy. You know that we must meet no more 
in this life : therefore since we are, as I trust, both chil- 
dren of God by faith in Jesus Christ, it becomes a mat- 
ter of less consequence when we leave this earth. Of 
the spread of the gospel in India I can say little, because 
1 hear nothing. Adieu, my dearest sister : let us live 
in constant prayer, for ourselves, and for the church. 
To his Sister. 

" October 19, 1808. 

" I have just come out of my chapel, where, with my 
little flock, I have once more resumed my duties. The 
infrequency of my appearance among them of late has 
thinned them considerably ; and this eflect, which I 
foresaw, is one of the most painful and lamentable 
consequences of my withdrawing from them ; but it is 
unavoidable if I wish to prolong my life. My danger 
is from the lungs : though none of you seem to appre- 
hend it. One complete service at church does more to 
consume my strength and spirits than six days of the 
hardest study, or bodily labour. Pray for me, my 
dear brother, that I may neither be rash nor indolent. 

" To t/tc ltd. D. Corrlc,'' 



236 CORRESPONDENCE DURINCJ 

October, 24., 1808. 

" You mention a letter enclosed, but none came. The 
intelligence, however, intended to be conveyed by it, 
met my delighted eyes. Thomason is coming! This 
is good. Praise be to the Lord of the harvest, for send- 
ing out labourers ! Behold how the prayers of the so- 
ciety at Calcutta have been heard. I hope they will 
continue their supplication; for we want more yet, and 
it may please God yet further to bless us. You cannot 
leave Calcutta by the middle of November, and must 
therefore apply for one month's extension of leave. But 
you are unwilling to leave your flock; and I do not 
wonder, as I have seen my sheep grievously dispersed 
during my absence. Uncertain when I may come 
amongst them, they seldom come at all, except the ten 
or twelve who meet one another. My morning congre- 
gation increases as the cold weather advances, and 
yesterday there seemed to be a considerable impression. 
I spoke in alow tone of voice, and therefore did not feel 
much fatigue ; — after the Hindoostanee service I was 
very weak; but at night tolerably strong again. On 
the whole, my expectations of life return. May the 
days thus prolonged be entirley His who continues them ! 
and may my work not only move on delightfully, but 
with a more devout and serious spirit ! You are too many 
happy brethren together for me to mention all ; suffice 
it to say, that my heart is with you, and daily prays 
for blessings upon you all. 

«' To the Rev. D. Corne. " 

The early part of the year 1809 produced no variation 
in the life of Mr. Martyn, until the month of April; 
when he was removed from his station at Dinapore, to 
Cawnpore. The following extracts are selected from the 
continuation of his correspondence with Mr. Corrie, in 
the interval which passed between the end of the year 
1808, and the termination of his ministry at Dinapore. 



THIS PPRIOD. 237 

*' Your letter from Buxar found me in much the same 
spiritual state as you describe yourself to be in ; though 
your description, no doubt, belongs more properly to 
me. I no longer hesitate to ascribe my stupor and for- 
mality to its right cause — unwatchfulness in worldly 
company. I thought that any temptation arising from 
the society of the people of the world, at least of such 
as we have had, was not worthy of notice: but I find 
myself mistaken. The frequent occasions of being 
among them of late, have proved a snare to my corrupt 
heart. Instead of returning with a more elastic spring 
to severe duties, as I expected, my heart wants more 
idleness, more dissipation. David Brainerd in the 
wilderness — what a contrast to Henry Marty n ! But God 
be thanked that a start now and then interrupts the 
slumber. I hope to be up and about my Master's busi- 
ness; to cast off the works of darkness, and to be spirit- 
ually-minded, which alone is life and peace. But what 
a dangerous country it is that we are in ; hot weather 
or cold, all is softness and luxury ; all a conspiracy to 
lull us to sleep in the lap of pleasure. . While we pass 
over this enchanted ground, call, brother, ever and anon, 
and ask, ' is all well ]' We are shepherds keeping watch 
over our flocks by night : if we fall asleep what is to 
become of them !" 

'' Ja7iuary 30, 1809. 
*' I have been seized with a sudden desire for reading 
Hebrew, chiefly from a wish of seeing language in its 
simplest and purest state. It is my belief that language 
is from God ; and that therefore, as in his other works, 
so in this, the principles must be extremely simple. My 
present labour is to find a reason for there being but two 
tenses in Hebrew. I have read, or rather devoured, 
the first four chapters in the Hebrew Bible, in order to 
account for the apparently strange use of these two 
tenses, and am making hypotheses every moment ; when 
I walk, and when I awake in the night. One thing I 



238 CORRESPONDENCE DURING 

have found, which is that there are but two tenses in 
English and in Persian. I will go: — in that sentence 
the principal verb is / will^ which is the present tense. 
I would have gone .- — the principal verb is, I would or I 
willed^ Should, also, is a preterite, namely, shalled^ 
from to shall. Another thing I observe is, that both in 
Persian and in English the preterite is formed in the 
same way, viz. by the addition oi ed ; porsum^ porse- 
dum — ask, asked, I should not wonder if, in the Saxon, 
or some other ancient northern language, from which 
the English comes, it is askedum. Thus you have a 
letter of philology. If I make any other great discover- 
ies, and have nothing better to write about, I shall take 
the liberty of communicating them. Scire tuum nihil 
est, nisi te scire hoc sciat alter : — but this I trust, is not 
my maxim. ' Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of 
God,^ is much better,''^ , , 

~ 1 • ^ - " February 13, 1809. 

' ' Last Friday we had the happiness and honour of 
finishing the four Gospels in Persian. The same evening 
I made some discovery respecting the Hebrew verb ; 
but was unfortunately so much delighted, that I could 
not sleep : in consequence of w^hich I have had a head 
ache ever since. Thus even intetiectual joys are fol- 
lowed by sorrow : not so spiritual ones. I pray conti- 
nually that order may be preserved in my heart ; that I 
may esteem and delight most in that work, which is 
really most estimable and delightful— the work of Christ 
and his apostles. When this is in-any measure the 
case, it is surprising how clear and orderly the thoughts 
are on other subjects. I am still a good deal in the dark 
respecting the objects of my pursuit; but have so far 
an insight, that 1 read both Hebrew and Arabic with 
increasing pleasure and satisfaction." 

''Febniavy 29, 1800. 
'' Your attack proves the necessity of diminishing* 
your Sabbath services. I scarcely know how this 



THIS PERIOD. 23() 

week has passed, nor can I call to mind the circum- 
stances of one single day; — so absorbed have I been 
in my new pursuit. I remember, however, that dur- 
ing one night I did not sleep a wink. Knowing- what 
would be the consequence the next day, I struggled 
hard and turned every way, that my mind might be 
diverted from what was before it; — but all in vain. 
One discovery succeeded another, in Hebrew, Arabic, 
and Greek, so rapidly, that I was sometimes almost in 
ecstacy; — but after all, I have moved but a step : you 
may scold me if you please — but I am helpless. 1 do 
not turn to this study of myself, but it turns to me, 
and draws me almost irresistibly. Still I perceive it to 
be a mark of a fallen nature to be so carried away by a 
pleasure merely intellectual ; and, therefore, while I 
pray for the gifts of his Spirit, I feel the necessity of 
being still more earnest for His grace. ' Whether 
there be tongues they shall cease ; whether there be 
knowledge, it shall vanish away; — but 'Charity ne- 
ver faileth.' Yesterday my mind was mercifully kept 
free the whole day : and I ministered without distrac- 
tion, and moreover without fatigue. I do not know 
when I have found myself so strong. The state of 
the air affects me more than any thing else. — On Sa- 
turday, I completed my twenty-eighth year. Shall I 
live to see another birth-day] — it will be better to 
suppose not. I have not read Faber yet, but it seems 
evident to me that the 11th. of Daniel, almost the 
whole of it, refers to future time. But as the time of 
accomplishing the Scriptures draws on, knowledge 
shall increase. In the solemn expectation we must 
wait, to see how our God will come. How interest- 
ing are his doings ! We feel already some of that rapture 
wherewith they sing above, ' Great and wonderful are 
thy works, Lord God almighty! just and true are thy 
ways, thou king of saints!'" 

'' March 3y 1809. 

'* I did not write to you last week, because I was 
employed niglrt and day, on Monday and Tuesday, with 



240 REMOVAL 

Sabat, in correcting some sheets for the press. I begin 
my letter, now, immediately on receiving yours of last 
week. The account of your complaint, as you may 
suppose, grieves me exceedingly; not because I think 
that I shall outlive you, but because your useful labours 
must be reduced to one quarter of their present amount; 
and that you may perhaps be obliged to take a voyage 
to Europe, which involves loss of time and money. — 
But, O brother beloved I what is life or death ? Nothing, 
to the believer in Jesus. ' He that believeth, though 
he were dead, yet shall he live : and he that liveth, and 
believeth in me, shall never die.' The first and most 
natural effect of sickness, as I have often found, is to 
cloud and terrify the mind. The attention of the soul 
is arrested by the idea of soon appearing in a new world ; 
and a sense of guilt is felt, before faith is exercised in 
a Redeemer : and for a time this will predominate; for 
the same faith that would overcome fear in health, must 
be considerably strengthened to have the same ascen- 
dency in sickness. I trust you will long live to do the 
work of your Lord Jesus. My discoveries are all at 
an end. I am just where I was — in perfect darkness, 
and tired of the pursuit. It is, however, likely that 
I shall be constantly speculating on the subject. My 
thirst after knowledge is very strong; but I pray con- 
tinually that the Spirit of God may hold the reins ; that 
I may mind the work of God above all things ; and con- 
sider all things else as merely occasional." 

" How delightful is it to me, at this moment, to com- 
mune with a dear brother, who ' is not of the world, as 
the Lord was not of the world.' I am just come from 

the mess of the . This morning the regiment was 

reviewed, and I, among the staff,* was invited to a 
public dejeune and dinner. As I had no pretence for 
not going, I went. Yesterday our new place of wor- 
ship was opened. It is a room eighty-one feet long, 
* Mr. Martyn was Military Chaplain, 



TO CAWNPORE. 241 

with a very largo verandah. It will be a noble church ; 
but I fear v^ill diminish somewhat of my strength. My 
text was, ' In all places where I record my name, I will 
come unto thee and bless thee.' may the promise be 
fulfilled to us!" 

At Cawnpore the hand of friendship and hospitality 
was stretched out to welcome Mr. Martyn ; and to afford 
him those attentions which, after a wearisome and 
perilous journey, w^ere not only most gratifying to his 
feelings, but almost indispensable to the preservation 
of his life. From the pen of the lady* of that friend 
who then received him — a pen jvhich has been often and 
happily employed in the sacred cause for which Mr. 
Martyn lived and laboured — we have the following ac- 
count of his arrival at the new station to which he was 
appointed. 

"The month of April, in the upper provinces of 
Hindoostan, is one of the most dreadful months for 
travelling throughout the year; indeed, no European, 
at that time, can remove from place to place, at the 
hazard of his life. But Mr. Martyn had that anxiety 
to be in the work which his heavenly father had given 
him to do, that notwithstanding the violent heat, he 
travelled from Chunar to Cawnpore, the space of about 
four hundred miles. At that time, as I well remember, 
the air was as hot and dry as that which I have some- 
times felt near the mouth of a large oven ; — no friendly 
cloud or verdant carpet of grass to relieve the eye from 
the strong glare of the rays of the sun, pouring on the 
sandy plains of the Ganges. Thus Mr. Martyn tra- 
velled, journeying night and day, and arrived at Cawn- 
pore in such a state, that he fainted away as soon as 
he entered the house. When we charged him with 
the rashness of hazarding his life in this manner, he 
always pleaded anxiety to get to the great work. He 
remained with us ten days, suffering considerably at 
times-from fever and pain in the chest." 
,* Mrs. Sherwood. 
X 



242 REMOVAL 

Mr. Martyn's own account of this dreadful and 
most distressing journey, is thus briefly detailed to 
Mr. Corrie. 

*« Caxvnpore, May 1, 1809. 

"The entrance to this place is through plains of 
immeasureable extent, covered v^^ith burning sand. 
The place itself I have not yet been able to see, nor 
shall, I suppose, till the rains : at present it is involved 
in a thick cloud of dust. So much for exordium. Let me 
take up my narrative from Mirzupore from whence I 
wrote you a note. I reached Tarra about noon. Next 
day, at noon, reached Allahabad, and was hospitably 

received by Mr. G ; at night dined with him at the 

Judge's, and met twenty-six people. From Allahabad to 
Cawnpore how shall I describe what I suffered ! Two 
days and two nights was I travelling without intermis- 
sion. Expecting to arrive early on Saturday morning, I 
took no provision for that day. Thus I lay in my palan- 
quin, faint, with a headache, neither awake nor asleep, 
between dead and alive — the wind blowing flapies. 
The bearers were so unable to bear up, that we were 
six hours coming the last six kos i( twelve miles.) 
However, with all these frightful circumstances, I 
was brought, in mercy through. It was too late on 
Saturday to think of giving notice of my arrival, that 
we might have service ; indeed I was myself too w^eak. 
Even now the motion of the palanquin is not out of my 
brain, nor the heat out of my blood. "^ 

Mr. Martyn's removal from Dinapore to Cawnpore,was 
. to him, in many respects, a very unpleasant arrange- 
ment. He was several hundred miles farther distant 
from Calcutta; and was far more widely separated than 
before from his friend Mr. Corrie : he had new ac- 
quaintances to form at his new abode; and after having 
with much difficulty procured the erection of a church 
at Dinapore, he was transported to a spot where none 
of the conveniences, much less the decencies and so- 



TO CAWNPORE. S43 

1 enmities of public worship, were visible. We find 
him, soon after he arrived there, preaching to a thou- 
sand soldiers, drawn up in a hollow square, when the 
heat was so ^reat although the sun had not risen, that 
many actually dropped down, unable to support it. 
What must such services as these have been, to a 
minister too faithful and zealous to seek refuge in indo- 
lent formality, and already weakened in health by former 
ministrations. He complained — if indeed he might 
ever be said to complain — of an attack of fever soon 
after the commencement of these services : and there can 
be little doubt that they contributed very materially to 
undermine his constitution. No time indeed was 
lost by him, on this occasion, as before, in remonstrating 
upon this subject ; and his remonstrances procured a 
promise that a church should be built. This expecta- 
tion, however, was not fulfilled until his health was too 
much shaken to profit by its^accomplishment. 

At Cawnpore Mr. Martyn's ministerial duties va- 
ried little from those which had occupied him at Dina- 
pore. Prayers and a sermon with the regiment at 
the dawn of the morning; the same service at the 
house of the general of the station, at eleven o'clock ; 
attendance at the hospital ; and, in the evening, that 
part of his work which was the most grateful and re- 
freshing to his spirit, though performed under the pres- 
sure of much bodily fatigue — an exposition to the 
more devout part of his flock, with prayer and thanks- 
giving — made up the ordinary portion of his labours. 

The love of philology — in which science he fondly 
hoped to effect discoveries conducive to the illucidation 
of difficulties in the Scriptures — followed him from 
Dinapore to his new residence ; and so haunted his 
mind, that, whether at home or abroad, whether 
by day or by night, he could not divest himself of 
it. For many successive days did he intensely pursue 
this study, and for many sleepless nights did this 
study pursue him. At length he thought that he had 



344 VISITS LUCKNOW 

ascertained the meaning of almost all the Hebrew let- 
ters : by degrees, however, he became less ardent in 
these inquiries ; either from questioning the truth of 
those axioms which he had laid down, or from finding 
their inutility after he had established them. 

These abstruse speculations, together with duties of 
a more important character, one of the chief of which 
was the superintendence of the Arabic translation of 
the New Testament, now begun and carried on conjoint- 
ly with a new Persian version, were soon interrupted, 
and for a time suspended, by a summons he received to 
Lucknow, for the purpose of celebrating a marriage, 
and by a similar call to Pretabjush. Concerning the 
latter he thus writes to Mr. Simeon, lamenting the in- 
conveniencies to which he was exposed by such dis- 
tant demands upon his services. " Just after the last 
ship from Europe arrived, and I was hourly expect- 
ing my letters, I was summoned to a distant station 
to marry a couple, and did not return till three weeks 
after. It was a great disappointment to be thus sud- 
denly sent to roam amongst jungles and jackalls, when 
I was feasting my fancy with delightful letters from 
my friends at home ; — though Europe is no longer my 
home. However, my mind was soon reconciled to it, 
and I was often able to recite, with some sense of 
their sweetness, Mr. Newton's beautiful lines: 

*' In desert tracts, with Thee, my God, 
How happy eould I be. *' 

"The place to which I was called is Pretabjush, in 
the territory of Oude, which is still under the govern- 
ment of the Nabob. Oppression and insecurity of pro- 
perty seem to have stripped the country of its inhabi- 
tants. From Manicpore, where I left the river, to Pre- 
tabjush, a distance of fifty miles, I saw but two or three 
miserable villages, and no agriculture. The road was 
nothing more than a winding footpath, through a con- 



AND PRETABJtJSIT. 245 

tinueJ wood, and that, in consequence of the rains, was 
often lost. Indeed all the lowlands were under water, 
which, added to the circumstance of travelling hy night, 
made the journey by no means a pleasant one. Being 
detained one Lord's day at the place, I assembled all 
the officers and company at the commanding officer's 
bungalow, and preached the gospel to them. There 
were five and thirty officers, besides ladies, and other 
Europeans. You will have an idea of the Nabob's coun- 
try, when you are informed that last September, a young 
officer going from his station to Lucknow, was stopped 
by robbers, and literally cut to pieces in his palanquin. 
Since that time, the Nabob has requested that every 
English gentleman wishing to visit his capital, may 
give notice of his intention to the Resident, in order 
that a guard may be sent. Accordingly, a few months 
ago, when 1 had occasion to go to Lucknow, I had a 
guard of four troopers, armed with match locks and 
spears. I thought of Nehemiah, but was far too infe- 
rior to him in courage and faith, not to contemplate the 
fierce countenances of my satellites with great satisfac- 
tion." 

Not long after Mr. Martyn's return from this expedi- 
tion, letters fromEurope reached Cawnpore, bringingin- 
telligence of a similar nature with that which had over- 
whelmed him in the preceding year. They contained 
intimations of the dangerous illness of that sister who 
had been so instrumental to his conversion to the Lord ; 
and they were but too quickly followed by an account 

of her death. " O my dearest S ," he began to 

write, with a faint hope, at first, of the possibility of 
her receiving his letter, " that disease which preyed 
upon our mother and dear sister, and has often shewn 
itself in me, has, I fear, attacked you. Although I 
parted from you in the expectation of never seeing you 
in this life; and though I know that you are, and have 
long been, prepared to go, yet to lose my last near rela- 
tion, my only sister, in nature and grace, is a dreadful 
X 2 



946 DEATH OF HIS 

stroke." " Dearest brother," he continued to her hus- 
band, from whom ho had, in the mean time, received a 
more alarming account, " I can write no more to my 
sister. Even now something tells me that I have been 
addressing one in the world of spirits. But yet it is 
possible that I may be mistaken. No! I dare not 
hope. Your loss is greater than mine, and therefore 
it would become me to offer consolation ; — but I cannot. 
I must wait till your next ; and in the mean time I will 
continue to pray for you, that the God of all consolation 
may comfort you, and make us both, from this time, 
live more as pilgrims and strangers upon the earth. In 
the first three years after leaving my native land, I have 
lost the three persons whom I most loved in it. What 
is there now that I should wish to live for! O what a 
barren desert, what a howling wilderness, does this 
world appear. But for the service of God in his church, 
and the preparation of my own soul, I do not know that 
I would wish to live another day." 

With a grateful tenderness, also, in the midst of this 
affliction, he thus addressed Mr. Simeon : — " My ever 
dear friend and brother — I address you by your true 
title, for you are a friend and brother, and more than 
a brother to me. Your letter, though it contains much 
afflictive intelligence, contains also much that demands 
my gratitude. In the midst of judgment He remembers 
mercy. He has been pleased to take away my last 
remaining sister (for I have no hopes of my poor S — 's 
recovery;) he has reduced the rest of my family, but 
he has raised up a friend for me an4r mine. Tears of 
gratitude mingle with those of sorrow, whilst I think 
of the mercy of God, and the goodness of you, his 
instrument." 

The close of the year 1809 was distinguished by the 
commencement of Mr. Martyn's first public ministration 
among the heathen. A crowd of mendicants, whom, 
to prevent perpetual interruptions, he had appointed to 
meet on a stated day, for the distribution of alms, fre- 



YOUNGEST SISTER. 247 

quently assembled before his house in immense num- 
bers, presenting an affecting spectacle of extreme 
wretchedness. To this congregation he determined to 
preach the word of the Saviour of all men, who is no 
respecter of persons. Of his first attempt at this new 
species of ministration, he thus speaks : — "I told them 
after requesting their attention, that I gave with plea- 
sure the alms I could afford, but wished to give them 
something better, namely eternal riches, or the know- 
ledge of God, which was to be had from God's word; 
and then producing a Hindoostanee translation of Gene- 
sis, read the first verse, and explained it word by 
word. In the beginning, when there was nothing, no 
heaven, no earth, but only God, he created without 
help, for his own pleasure. — But who is God ? One 
so great, so good, so wise, so mighty, that none can 
know him as he ought to know : but yet we must 
know that he knows us. When we rise up, or sit 
down, or go out, he is always with us. — He created 
heaven and earth ; therefore every thing in heaven — 
sun, moon, and stars. Therefore how should the sun 
be God; or the moon be God? He created every 
thing on earth, therefore Ganges also ; therefore how 
should Ganges be God 1 Neither are they like God, 
If a shoemaker make a pair of shoes, are the shoes 
like him 1 If a man make an image, the image is not 
like man, his maker. . Infer secondly : if God made 
the heaven and earth for you, and made the meat also 
for you, will he not also feed you 1 Know also, that 
.he that made heaven and earth, can destroy them ; — and 
will do it ; therefore fear God, who is so great ; and 
love God, who is so good." Such was the substance 
of his first discourse, the whole of which was preach- 
ed, sentence by sentence, for at the end of each clause 
there followed applause and explanatory remarks from 
the wiser among them. " I bless my God," said Mr. 
Martyn, '' for helping me beyond my expectations. 



248 PREACHES TO 

Yet still my corrupt heart looks forward to the next 
attempt with some dread." 

The following Sunday he preached again to the 
beggars, in number about five hundred, on the w^ork 
of the first and second day, when all he said was received 
with great applause. And on the last day of the year 
he again addressed them, their numbers amounting to 
above five hundred and fifty ; taking for his subject 
the works of the third and fourth day. " I did not," 
he remarks, " succeed so well as before ; I suppose 
because I had more confidence in myself, and less in 
the Lord. I fear they did not understand me well ; 
but the few sentences that w^ere clear, they applauded. 
Speaking to them of the sea and rivers, I spoke to 
them again of the Ganges, that it was no more than 
other rivers. God loved the Hindoos — but he loved 
other people too ; and whatever river, or water, or 
other good thing, he gave Hindoos, he gave other 
people also : for all are alike before God. Ganges 
therefore is not to be worshipped ; because, so far from 
being a God, it is no better than other rivers. In 
speaking of the earth and moon, " as a candle in the 
house, so is the sun," I said, *' in the heavens." But 
would I worship a candle in my hand 1 These were 
nice points: I felt as if treading on tender ground, 
and was almost disposed to blame myself for impru- 
dence. I thought that, amidst the silence these re- 
marks produced, I heard hisses and groans ; — but a 
few Mahometans applauded." 

With these new labours of love the^year 1809 ter- . 
minated^ "Ten years have elapsed," observed Mr. 
Martyn on the last day of it, '< since I was first called 
of God to the fellowship of the gospel ; and ten times 
greater than ever ought to be my gratitude to the ten- 
der mercy of my God, for all that he has done for me. 
The ways of wisdom appear more sweet and reasona- 
ble than ever, and the world more insipid and vexa- 
tious. The chief thing I have to mourn over, is my 



THE HINDOOS. 349 

want of more powor and fervour in secret prayer, 
especially when attempting to plead for the heathen. 
Warmth does not increase with me in proportion to 
my liglit." 

To the temporal and spiritual necessities of those 
wretched beings who statedly assembled before his 
house, Mr. Martyn continued to minister assiduously 
in the early part of the year 1810; nor did he cease 
to do so, whilst his health permitted, during- the re- 
mainder of his residence at Cawnpore. The satis- 
faction of seeing their numbers increase, sometimes 
amounting to as many as eight hundred persons, was 
exceeded by the more solid gratification of witnessing 
in them a growing attention to the instructions he 
delivered. By degrees tumultuous applauses were 
succeeded by pertinent remarks, or were lost in a 
serious and pensive silence. On one occasion, par- 
ticularly, the apparent effect produced by his discourse 
was highly encouraging. An extraordinary impres- 
sion was made on his Mahometan and pagan auditory, 
whom he had been addressing on the awful subject of 
the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, with equal 
simplicity and solemnity. " After finishing," he ob- 
serves, " the narrative of the fall of Sodom, I said, 
without further preparation, ' Do you, too, repent of 
your sins, and turn to God V It was this simple sen- 
tence that seemed to come with great power, and 
prevented my proceeding for a time. ' For though you 
are not like the men of Sodom — God forbid ! — you 
are nevertheless sinners. Are there no thieves, for- 
nicators, railers, extortioners among you 1 Be you 
sure that God is angry. 1 say not that He wilLburn 
your town ; but that he will burn you. Haste, there- 
fore, out of Sodom. Sodom is the world which is 
full of sinners and sin. Come out, therefore, from 
amongst them : forsake not your worldly business, 
but your sinful companions. Do not be like the world , 
lest you perish with them. Do not, like Lot, linger ; 



250 FAILURE OF 

say not, to-morrow, we will repent, lest you never 
see to-morrow — repent to-day. Then, as Lot, seated 
on the hill, beheld the flames in safety, you also, 
sitting on the hills of heaven, shall behold the ruins 
of the world without fear." 

In the midst of these exertions, an attack of pain in 
the chest, of a severer kind than he had before ex- 
perienced, forced upon Mr. Martyn's mind the un- 
welcome conviction of the necessity of some quiet 
and relaxation. 

Upon the subject of his health — a subject which 
was becoming but too interesting and alarming to his 
friends in general — he thus wrote to Mr. Simeon, 
who long before had warmly urged him to the most 
watchful care and prudence. " I read your letter of 
6th July, 1809, cautioning me against over-exertion, 
with the confidence of one who had nothing to fear. 
This was only three weeks ago. Since the last 
Lord's day your kind advice was brought home to 
my mind, accompanied with painful regret that I 
had not paid more attention to it. My work last Sun- 
day was not more than usual, but far too much for me, 
I can perceive. First, service to his majesty's 53rd 
regiment, in the open air ; then at head quarters ; in 
the afternoon, preached to eight hundred natives ; at 
night, to my little flock of Europeans. Which of 
these can I forego 1 the ministration of the natives 
might be in the week ; but T wish to attach the idea 
of holiness to the Sunday. My evening congregation, 
on Sunday, is attended by twice as many as in the 
week-day ; so how can I let this go ?" 

With what extreme reluctance Mr. Martyn '' spared 
himself," we see from the above letter. The pro- 
gress of his complaint, however, compelled him to 
overcome this reluctance ; and to the Lidian congrega- 
tion, when they next assembled, he was obliged to 
declare that his ill health prevented him from address- 
ing them ; upon which hundreds of voices were heard 



HIS HEALTH. 251 

invokiftg for him long life and health, and when he 
dispensed his alms among them, their thankfulness 
seemed to know no bounds. Shortly after, however, 
he ventured to finish with these mendicants the history 
of Joseph, upon which he had entered : and to re- 
sume also the whole of his duty on the sabbath, with 
the exception of one service. And, notwithstanding 
his extreme caution on that point, he administered the 
rite of baptism to an old Hindoo woman, " who, 
though she knew but little, was," he said, " lowliness 
itself." 

Whilst Mr. Martyn was thus labouring in the very 
fire, sometimes yielding to the pressure of his com- 
plaint, and affording himself little ease and relaxa- 
tion ; at others, renewing it, either by private con- 
versation or public services ; providentially for the 
preservation of the remnant of his health, in the begin- 
ning of June, his friend and brother, Mr. Corrie, ar- 
rived at Cawnpore, on his journey to his new station 
at Agra. This proved a most seasonable refreshment 
and relief to Mr. Martyn, both in body and mind ; 
for his friend, though himself in a weak state of 
health, undertook, by the permission of the commander- 
in-chief, who showed a kind consideration for Mr. 
Martyn in his drooping condition, part of the duty^ 
leaving to Mr. Martyn only the services of preaching 
to the natives at noon, and to the soldiers in the even- 
ing, in the performance of which he persuaded him- 
self that he ought to persevere. 

How greatly his friends became alarmed at this 
juncture, will appear from the following animated and 
anxious letter from Mr. Brown : — " You will know, 
from our inestimable brother Corrie, my solicitude 
about your health. If it could make you live longer, 
I would give up any child I have, and myself into 
the bargain. — May it please the adorable, unsearcha- 
ble Being with whom we have to do, to lengthen your 
span I — Amidst the dead and the dying nothing can bo 



FAILURE OF 

more apparently prosperous to tlie churcli t)f God, 
than the overwhelmings now taking place in the earth. 
Christ will find his way to the hearts of men, and 
there will be a great company to praise Him. I know 
not why we should wish to be saved, but for this pur- 
pose ; or why, but for this purpose, we should desire 
the conversion of Heathens, Turks, and Infidels. To 
find them at the feet of Jesus will be a lovely sight. 
Our feeble voices cannot praise him much. We shall 
be glad to see them clapping their hands and casting 
their crowns before him ; for all in heaven and earth 
cannot sufldciently praise him. I see no cause to wish 
for any thing but the advancement of that knowledge 
by which there is some accession of praise to his holy 
and blessed name. We grasp and would wish to 
gather all to Christ ; but without him we can do no- 
thing : He will gather to himself those that are his." 

From this time till the month of September, Mr. 
Martyn persisted in his ministration to the natives, 
taking for the subject of several successive discourses, 
the Ten Commandments. On one of these occasions, 
he describes himself as speaking with great ease in 
his body and joy in his heart. " Blessed be God," 
he says, " my strength is returning. O may I live 
to proclaim salvation through a Saviour's blood." But 
this sunshine was soon overclouded ; and shortly after 
he again relapsed. 

Such was the sinking state of his health, notwith- 
standing the seasonable and important assistance de- 
rived from the presence of Mr. Corrie, that a removal 
from Cawnpore, either to make trial of the effect of a 
sea voyage, or to return for a short time to England, 
became now a matter of urgent necessity. The adop- 
tion of the latter expedient he had onoe determined 
upon, conceiving that his complaint might arise from 
relaxation, and that a bracing air would in that case 
be beneficial. Nor was this resolution formed with- 
out a reluctant struggle in his mind : India held out 



HIS HEALTH. 253 

to him the most powerful attractions ; however strongly 
his affections were drawn towards his native country. 
That he had not forgotten one peculiarly dear to him, 
is shown in the following record, breathing equally 
a spirit of touching tenderness, and of meek resig- 
nation. 

Sept. 22. — " Was walking with L ; — both much 

affected ; and speaking on the things dearest to us 
both. I awoke, and behold, it was a dream ! My mind 
remained very solemn and pensive — I shed tears. The 
clock struck three, and the moon was riding near her 
highest noon : all was silence and solemnity, and I 
thought with pain of the sixteen thousand miles be- 
tween us. But good is the will of the Lord ! even 
if I see her no more." 

The precise period of his departure from Cawnpore, 
as well as the place of his ultimate destination, were 
fixed by information received from Calcutta, concern- 
ing the Persian version of the New Testament. 

The version which had first been made in that lan- 
guage, two gospels of which had been printed, had 
been considered, on further inspection and more ma- 
ture consideration, to require too many amendments to 
admit of its immediate publication. It was accord- 
ingly returned to the translator, who, under the super- 
intendence of Mr. Martyn, bestowed so much pains 
and attention upon it, as to render it a new, and, it 
was hoped, a sound and accurate work. By those, 
however, who were considered competent judges at 
Calcutta, it was still deemed unfit for general circula- 
tion, inasmuch as it was thought to abound with Ara- 
bic idioms, and to be written in a style," pleasing 
indeed to the learned, but not sufficiently level to the 
capacities of the mass of modern readers. 

At this decision Mr. Martyn was as keenly disap- 
pointed, as he was delighted at the complete success 
of the Hindostance version, which, on the minutest 
and most rigorous revision, was pronounced to be 
Y 



S54 FAILURE OrV 

idiomatic and plain. But meeting the disappointment 
with the spirit and elasticity of mind, which is the 
result of lively faith, he instantly lesolved — after 
committing his way to God in prayer, and consulting 
his friends, Mr. Corrie and Mr. Brown, on the sub- 
ject — to go into Arabia and Persia, for the purpose 
of collecting the opinions of learned natives, with 
respect to the Persian translation, which had just been 
rejected, as well as of the Arabic version, which 
was yet incomplete, though nearly finished. 

Mr. Brown's reply, on this purpose being commu- 
nicated to him, is too ^characteristic, both of himself 
and of Mr. Martyn, to be omitted. " But can I 
then,'* said he, " bring myself to cut the string and 
let you go ? I confess I could not, if your bodily 
frame were strong, and promised to last for half a 
century. But as you burn with the intenseness and 
rapid blaze of heated phosphorus, why should we not 
make the most of you 1 Your flame may last as long, 
and perhaps longer, in Arabia, than in India. Where 
should the phoenix build her odoriferous nest, but in 
the land prophetically called 'the blessed?' — and 
where shall we ever expect, but from that country, the 
true comforter to come to the nations of the east 1 I 
contemplate"your New Testament, springing up, as it 
were, from dust and ashes, but beautiful ' as the wings 
of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers like 
yellow gold.' " 

Towards the end of September, th^efore, Mr. Mar- 
tyn put himself in readiness to leave Cawnpore ; and 
on his preaching for the last time to the natives, and 
giving them an account of the life, the miracles, the 
death, and the resurrection of Jesus, as well as a 
summary of his heavenly doctrines ; — exhorting them 
to believe in him ; and taking them to record that he 
had declared to them the glad tidings of the gospel ; — 
it was but too apparent that they would never again 
hear those sounds of wisdom and mercy from his lips. 



HIS HEALTH. 255 

On the opening of the new church, also, where he 
preached to his own countryman — amidst the happi- 
ness and thankfulness which abounded at seeing " a 
temple of God erected, and a door opened for the ser- 
vice of the Almighty, in a place, where, from the 
foundation of the world, the tabernacle of the true 
God had never stood" — a mournful foreboding could 
not .be suppressed; that he, wiio had been the 
cause of its erection, and who now ministered in it 
for the first time, in the beauty of holiness, would 
minister there no more. They beheld him as standing 
on the verge of the eternal world, and ready to take 
a splendid flight. " My father, my father, the chariot 
of Israel and the horsemen thereof," were the senti- 
ments with which many gazed on him. One of his 
auditors on this solemn occasion,* describes, in the 
following words, the feeliugs of many others, in de- 
picting her own : — " He began in a weak and faint 
voice, being at that time in a very bad state of health; 
but, gathering strength as he proceeded, he seemed as 
one inspired from on high. Never was an audience 
more affected. The next day this holy and heavenly 
man left Cawnpore, and the society of many who sin- 
cerely loved and admired him. He left us with little 
hope of seeing him again, until, by the mercy of our 
Saviour, we meet with him in our Father's house." 

On the first day of October, the day following the 
delivery of the affecting discourse, after fervently uniting 
in prayer with his beloved friend and brother, Mr. 
Corrie, with whom he was not again to meet and 
worship until separation shall cease for ever, and 
prayer be changed into endless hallelujahs — Mr. Mar- 
tyn departed from Cawnpore for Mr. Brown's residence 
at Aldeen-, which he safely reached on the evening of 
the last day of the month. In his voyag3 down the 
Ganges, nothing of particular moment occurred, ex- 
cept that he visited the remains of his flock of the 
*Mrs. Shenvood. 



266 LEAVES CAWNPORE 

67th at Gazeepore, "where," said he, ''sad was the 
sight; — many of the most hopeful were ashamed to 
look me in the face, and sorrow appeared in the faces 
of those who had remained faithful. — About nine of 
these came to me in my boat, where we sung- the hymn 
which begins, 'Come ye that love the Lord;' after 
which I spuke to, and prayed with them, earnestly and 
affectionately, if ever I did in my life." This painful 
interview was succeeded by another, not uninteresting, 
with Antonio, a monk, at Boglipore. "We sat in the 
evening," Mr. Martyn writes, "under a shed on the 
banks of the river, and began to dispute in Latin about 
the church. He grew a little angry, and I do not 
know what might have been the end of it; but the church- 
bells rang for vespers, and terminated the controversy. 
The church is in his garden; a very neat building, 
hung round with some little mean engravings. A 
light was burning in the chancel, and an image of the 
Virgin, behind a curtain, as usual, was over the table. 
Antonio did not fail to bow to the image; but he did 
it in a way which shewed that he was ashamed of 
himself; at least so I thought. He read some passages 
from the Hindoostanee gospels, which I w^as surpris- 
ed to find so well done. I begged him to go on with 
the epistles. He had translated also the Missal, 
equally well done. He shewed me the four gospels 
in Persian, very poorly done. I rejoiced unfeignedly 
at seeing so much done, though he followeth not with 
us. The Lord bless his labours ; and while he water- 
eth others may he be watered himseTf !" 

Restored, after an absence of four years, to an in- 
tercourse with his friends, who on beholding his pallid 
countenance and enfeebled frame, knew not whether 
most to mourn or rejoice, Mr. Martyn partook largely 
of that pure, refined happiness, which is peculiar to 
one of his vivid feeling and heavenly affections; in 
that society where they that " fear the Lord speak 
often one to another, and the. Lord hearkens and hears, 



FOR CALCUTTA. 257 

and a book of rcmembranc<3 is written before him, for 
them that fear the Lord and think upon his name." The 
following letter to Mr. Simeon expresses the heartfelt 
sentiments of one of those friends,* to whom India in 
general, and Calcutta in particular, stand so greatly 
indebted — after an interview chequered alternately by 
the varing lights and shades of joy and distress. 
*'This bright and lovely jewel first gratified our eyes 
on Saturday last. He is on his way to Arabia, where 
lie is going in pursuit of health and knowledge. You 
know his genius, and what gigantic strides he takes in 
every thing. He has some great plan in his mind ; of 
which I am no competent judge; but as far as I do 
understand it, the object is far too grand for one short 
life, and much beyond his feeble and exhausted frame. 
Feeble it is indeed! how fallen and changed! His 
complaint lies in his lungs, and appears to be an in- 
cipient consumption. But let us hope that the sea- 
air may revive him ; and that change of place and pur- 
suit may do him essential service, and continue his 
life many years In all other respects, he is exactly 
the same as he was; he shines in all the dignity of 
love; and seems to carry about him such a heavenly 
majesty, as impresses the mind beyond description. 
But if he talks much, though in a low voice, he sinks — 
and you are reminded of his being *dust and ashes.' " 
So infirm was the state of Mr. Martyn's health, that 
the indulgence of conversation with his friends soon 
produced a recurrence of those symptoms which had 
occasioned alarm at Cawnpore ; and yet, notwith- 
standing this he preached every Sabbath at Calcutta, 
with one exception only until he finally left it. Ani- 
mated with the zeal of that apostle who at Troas con- 
tinued his discourse until midnight, he could not re- 
frain from lifting up his voice, weak as it was, in 
divine warnings and invitations in a place where 
something seemed to intimate that he should never 
* The Rev. Mr. Thomason, 
y 2 



258 PREPARES TO LEAVE INDIA. 

tigain declare God's judgments against the impenitent, 
nor invite the weary and heavy laden to Jesus Christ 
fo-r rest. 

"I now pass," said Mr. Martyn on the lirst day of 
the year 1811, '* from India to Arabia, not knowing 
the things that shall befal me there, but assured that 
an ever-faithful God and Saviour will be w4th me in 
all places withersoever I go. May he guide me and 
protect me, and after prospering me in the thing where- 
•unto I go, bring me back again to my delightful work 
in India. I am perhaps leaving it to see it no more ; — 
but the will of God be done ; my times are in his hand, 
tmd he will cut them as short as will be most for my 
good : and with this assurance, I feel that nothing need 
interrupt my work or my peace." 

On the 7th day of January, after having preached. 
a sermon on the anniversary of the Calcutta Bible 
Society, which was afterwards printed, and entitled, 
•*' Christian India; or an appeal on behalf of nine hun- 
tdred thousand Christians in India who want the Bi* 
Me;" and after having for the last time addressed the 
inhabitants of Calcutta, from the text of scripture^ 
-*' But one thing is needful" — Mr. Martyn departed for 
«ver from those shores, on which he had fondly and 
fully purposed to spend all his days. 



CHAPTER VIII.- 

MR. MARTYR LEAVES BENGAL FOR SHIRAZ OCCURRENCES 

DURING HIS JOURNEY — ARRIVES AT SHIRAZ COMMENCES 

A NEW TRANSLATION — DISCUSSION WITH THE PERSIAN 
MOOLLAHS. 

In the former periods of Mr. Martyn's life, we have 
iseen in him, the successful candidate for academical 
distinctions — the faithful and laborious pastor — the 



HIS VOVAGE TO BUSHIRE. 259 

self-denying; and devoted missionary — the indefatiga- 
ble translator of the scriptures — the preacher of the 
gospel to the heathen. In this, the last and short- 
est portion of the contracted term of his earthly exist- 
ence, we are called to contemplate his character in a 
new and yet more striking light, and shall have occa- 
sion to admire in him the erect and courageous spirit 
of the Christian confessor. 

The occurrences which transpired betv/een his de- 
parture from the mouth of the Hoogley and his arrival 
at Shiraz, occupy a period of five months. They are 
partly recorded in the following extracts frdm his 
private journal, and partly related in a letter to Mr* 
Oorrie, from Shiraz. 

''Bay of Bengal, 1811. 

<* I took a passage in the ship Ahmoody, Captain 
Kinsay, bound to Bombay. One of my fellow-passen- 
gers was the Honourable Mr. Elphinstone, who was 
proceeding to take the Residency of Poonah. His 
agreeable manners and classicaf acquirements made 
me think myself fortunate indeed in having such a 
companion, and I found his company the most agree- 
able circumstance in my voyage." 

** Our captain was a pupil of Swartz, of whom he 
communicated many interesting particulars. Swartz, 
with Kolhoff and Jcenicke, kept a school for half-caste 
children, about a mile and a half from Tanjore ; but 
went every night to the Tanjore Church, to meet about 
sixty or seventy of the king's regiment, who assembled 
for devotional purposes : after which he officiated to 
their wives and children in Portuguese. At the school 
Swartz used to read, in the morning, out of the Ger- 
man, " Meditation for every day in the year ;" at 
night, he had family prayer. Jcenicke taught geogra- 
phy; Kolhof, writing and arithmetic. They had also 
masters in Persian and Malabar." 

"At the time when the present Rajah was in dan* 



260 HIS VOYAGH 

get of his life from the usurper of his uncle's throne, 
Swartz used to sleep in the same room with him. — 
Tliis was sufficient protection, " for (said the Cap- 
tain) Swartz was considered by the natives as some- 
thing more than mortal." The ofd Rajah, at his death, 
committed his nephew to Swartz." 

"All down the Bay of Bengal I could do nothing 
but sit listless on the poop, viewing the wide waste 
of water ; — a sight that would have been beautiful, 
had I been well." 

" On the 18th, we came in sight of the Island of 
Ceylon." 

" In my Hebrew researches I scarcely ever felt so 
discouraged. All the knowledge I thought I had ac- 
quired became uncertain, and consequently I was un- 
happy. It was in vain that I reflected that thousands 
live and die happy, without such knowledge as I am 
in search of. 

Jan. 20. — Sunday. — " Had divine service in the 
cabin in the morning, but waited in vain for what I 
call a proper opportunity of introducing family prayer. 
When shall I have done with this pernicious delicacy, 
which would rather yield up souls than suffer a wound 
itself]" 

Jan. 22. — " Came to an anchor off Columbo. In 
the afternoon, went on shore with Mr. Elphinstone, 
and walked to a cinnamon garden. The road all 
along was beautiful ; tall groves of cocoa-nut trees 
on each side, with the tents of the^iatives among 
them, opened here and there, and gave a view of the 
sea. The Cingalese who accompanied us, told the 
natives who saw us, that we were Protestant Chris- 
tians. On our way back, we saw a party of Cinga- 
lese Christians returning home from a church-yard, 
where they had been burying a corpse. I crossed 
over to them, found their Catechist, who, however, 
spoke too little English to give me any information. 

Jan, 23. — " Sailed from Ceylon across the Gulf of 



TO BUSHIRE. 261 

Manaar, where there is generally a swell, but which 
we found smooth. Having- passed Cape Comorin, 
and come into smooth water, I proposed having family- 
prayer every night in the cabin ; — and no objection 
was made. Spoke a ship to-day which was convey- 
ing pilgrims from Manilla to Jidda. The first object 
discernible under the high mountains at Cape Como- 
rin w^as a church. As we passed along the shore, 
churches appeared every two or three miles, with a 
row of huts on each side. These churches are like 
the meeting-houses in England, with a j-orch at the 
west end. Perhaps many of these poor people, with 
all the incumbrances of Popery, are moving towards 
the kingdom of heaven." 

Jan, 20. — " Anchored off Allepie. Learned that 
there were here about two hundred Christians, Portu- 
guese, besides the fishermen caste. The church was a 
temporary erection, but a stone edifice is to be raised 
on the spot. The Portuguese Padre resides at another 
church about three miles off." 

Jan. 27 to 31. — " Generally unwell. In prayer, 
my views of my Saviour have been inexpressibly con- 
solatory. How glorious the privilege that we exist 
but in him; without him I lose the principle of life, 
and am left to the power of native corruption — a rot- 
ten branch, a dead thing, that none can make use of. 
This mass of corruption, when it meets the Lord, 
changes its nature, and lives throughout, and is re- 
garded by God as a member of Christ's body. This 
is my bliss, that Christ is all. Upheld by him, I 
smile at death. It is no longer a question about my 
own worthiness. I glory in God, through our Lord 
Jesus Christ. 

Feb. 7. — Arrived at Goa. Spent the evening at 
Mr. 's, to whom I had letters of recommenda- 
tion. The next day I went up with Mr. Elphinstone 
and others, to Old Goa, where we were shown the 
convents and churches. At the convent of the Nuno, 



263 HIS VOYAGE 

observing one reading, I asked to see the book. It 
was handed through the grate, and it was a Latin 
prayer-book, I wrote in it something about having the 
world in the heart, though flying from it to a convent. 
I tried to converse with two or three half-native monks, 
but they knew so little Latin, that 1 could not gain 
much from them ; and the Portuguese Padres seemed 
to know still less. After visiting the tomb of Fran- 
cis Xavier, we went to the Inquisition: but we were 
not admitted beyond the anti-chamber. The priest 
we found there (a secular) conversed a little on the 
subject, and said it was the ancient practice, that if 
any spoke against religion, they were conducted thi- 
ther and chastised ; that there were some prisoners there 
under examination at that time. No one dares resist 
the officers of the Inquisition ; the mioment they touch 

a man, he surrenders himself. Colonel , who 

is writing an account of the Portuguese in this set- 
tlement, told me that the population of the Portu- 
guese territory was two hundred and sixty thousand ; 
of whom two hundred thousand, he did not doubt, 
were Christians." 

*' Feb. 17. — Sunday. — A. tempestuous sea throwing 
ns all into disorder, w^e had no service." 

*' Feb. 18. — Anchored at Bombay. — This day I 
finished the thirtieth year of my unprofitable life : the 
age at which David Brainerd finished his course. I 
am now at the age at which the Saviour of men began 
his ministry ; — and at which John the Baptist called 
a nation to repentance. Let rne now think for my- 
self, and act with energy. Hitherto I have made my 
youth and insignificance an excuse for sloth and imbe- 
cility : now let me have a character, and act boldly 
for God." 

"Feb. 10. — Went on shore. Waited on the Govern- 
or, and was kindly accommodated with a room at the 
Government-house." 

** Feb. 21, — Talked to the Governor about what wo 



TO BUSHIRC. 263 

had been doin^ at Bengal, and begged that he would 
interest himself, and procure us all the information he 
could about the Native Christians : this he promised 
to do. At Bombay, there are twenty thousand Chris- 
tians ; at Salsetee, twenty-one thousand; and at this 
place there are forty-one thousand, using the Mahratta 
language." 

" Feb. 22. — At the Courier press I saw the Ma- 
layalim New Testament in print, as far as the eleventh 
of .lohn." 

'' Feb. 24. — Preached at the Bombay church," 
" March 5. — Feeroz, a Parsee, who is considered 
the most learned man here, called to converse about 
religion. He spoke Persian, and seemed familiar 
with Arabic. He began with saying that no one re- 
ligion had more evidences of truth than another, for 
that all the miracles of the respective founders de- 
pended upon tradition. This I denied. He acknow- 
ledged that the writer of the Zendavesta was not 
contemporary with Zoroaste^. After disputing and 
raising objections, he was left without an answer, but 
continued to cavil. 'Why,' said he, 'did the Magi 
see the star in the east, and none else 1 from what 
part of the east did they come 1 and how was it pos- 
sible that their king should come to Jerusalem in seven 
days V The last piece of information he had from 
the Armenians. I asked him ' whether he had any 
thoughts of changing his religion 1 He replied with 
a contemptuous smile, 'No: every man is safe in his 
own religion.' I asked him ' What sinners must do 
to obtain pardon V ' Repent,' said he. I asked, 
' Would repentance satisfy a creditor or a judge V 
* Why is it not said in the gospel,' rejoined he, ' that 
we must repent V I replied, ' It cannot be proved 
from the gospel, that repentance alone is sufficient, or 
good works, or both.' ' Where then is the glory of 
salvation V he said. I replied, ' In the atonement of 
Christ.' ' All this,' said he, ' I know ; but so tho 



264 ttIS VOYAGE 

Mahometans say, that Hosyn was an atonement for 
the sins of men.' He then began to criticise the 
translations which he saw on the table, and wondered 
why they were not made in such Persian as was now 
in use. He looked at the beginning of the eighth of 
Romans, in the Christiaji Knowledge Society's Ara- 
bic Testament, but could gather no meaning at all 
from it." 

Mar. 6. — Feeroz called again, and gave me some 
account of his own people. He said that they con- 
sidered the terms Magi and Guebr as terms of reproach, 
and that their proper name was Musdyasni ; that no 
books were written in their most ancient language, 
namely the Pahlavee, but Zoroaster's twenty-one ; of 
these twenty-one, only two remain. He showed me a 
part of a poem which he is w^riting ; the subject is the 
conquest of India by the English ; the title, Georgiad. 
He is certainly an ingenious man, and possesses one 
of the most agreeable qualities a disputant can pos- 
sess, which is patience : he never interrupted me ; 
and if I rudely interrupted him, he was silent in a 
moment." 

" Mar. 7. — Mahomed Jan, a very young man, son 
of Mehdee Ali Kahn, Lord Wellesley's Envoy to Per- 
sia, called. I should not have thought him worth 
arguing with, he seemed such a boy : but his fluency 
. in Persian pleased me so much, that I was glad to 
hear him speak ; he was, besides, familiar with all 
the arguments the Mouluwees usually bring forward ; 
moreover I thought that perhaps his youthful mind 
might be more open to conviction than that of the 
hoary Moollahs." 

" Mar. 9.— Visited the Elephant's Island." 

" Mar. 10. — Sunday. — This morning Feeroz called 
before church. He said that their order of priest- 
hood consisted in the descendants of Zoroaster, and 
were called Mobid ; that four times a month they as- 
sembled, viz. the 6th, 13th, 20th, and 27th: stran- 



TO BUSHIRE. 265 

gers were not allowed to see the sacred fire, ' though,' 
said the old man significantly, ' I Vhink there is no- 
thing unlawful in it, but the common people do.' He 
betjan to profess himself a Deist. ' In our religion,' 
said he, ' they believe as Zoroaster taught ; that the 
heavens and earth were made ; but I believe no such 
thing." 

"Mar. 16. — Walked at night with a respectable 
Jew of Bussorah, whose name was Ezra; he knew 
next to nothing." 

** Mar. 25. — Embarked on board the Banares, Cap- 
tain Sealy ; who, in company with the Prince of 
Wales, Captain Hepburn, was ordered to cruise in the 
Persian Gulf, against the Arab pirates. We got un- 
der weigh immediately, and were outside the land 
before night." 

" Mar. 31. — The European part of the ship's crew, 
consisting of forty-five sailors and twelve artillery- 
men, were asembled on the quarter-deck to hear divine 
service. I wondered to see so many of the seamen 
inattentive ; but I afterwards found that most of them 
were foreigners, French, Spanish, Portuguese, &c. 
We had prayers in the cabin every night.- In the 
afternoon I used to read to a sick man below, and two 
or three others would come to hear." 

" April 14. — Easter Sunday.-^Came in sight of the 
Persian coast, near Tiz, in Meehan.'^ 

*' April 21. — Anchored at Muscat, in Arabia." 

*' April 23. — Went on shore with the Captain to 
the Indian broker's, at whose hguse we met the Vizier, 
by appointment. There was an unimportant confer- 
ence, at which I assisted as interpreter. The sultan 
was a few miles off, fighting with the Wechabites." 

"April 24, — Went with our English party, two 
Armenians, and an Arab soldier, to see a garden ; there 
was nothing very wonderful in the garden, but a lit- 
tle green in this frightful wilderness was, no doubt to 
the Arab, a great curiosity. His African slave argued 
Z 



266 HIS JOURNKY 

with me for Mahomed, and did not know how to let. 
me go, he was so interested in the business." 

" April 25. — The Arab soldier and his slave came 
on board to take leave. They asked to see the Gos- 
pel. The instant I gave them a copy in Arabic, the 
poor boy began to read, and carried it off as a great 
prize, which I hope he will find it to be. This night 
we warped out of the Cove, and got under weigh. I 
had not had a night's rest from the day we entered it." 

"April 26. — Came in sight of the Persian shore 
again." 

" April 28 — Sunday. — At anchor in Jasques Bay, 
which the artillery officer surveyed. Captain Hep- 
burn brought his crew to church. Went on board 
his ship to see two Armenian young men; who in- 
formed me of the conversion of Mirza Ishmael, son 
of Shehool Islam, who was gone to Bombay for baptism." 

" May 7. — Finished a work on which I have been 
engaged for a fortnight ;— a new arrangement of all 
the Hebrew roots, classing them according to the last 
letter, the last but one, &c." 

''May 20. — After a troublesome north-wester, we 
have now a fair wind, carrying us gently to Bushire." 

"May 22.--Landed at Bushire." 
^ In his journey from Bushire to Shiraz, it was not mere- 
ly the ordinary inconveniences of travelling in Persia, 
which Mr. Martyn had to combat. So intense was the 
heat of the sun in the month of June, as to endanger 
his life; a peril of which he had na^previous appre- 
hension: though with so great an object before him, 
he would have been warranted in knowingly incurring 
great danger towards the attainment of his purpose. 

Seventeen days elapsed, after landing at Bushire, 
before he reached Shiraz ; of these, eight were con- 
sumed in preparation for travelling, and the remainder 
in accomplishing his journey. The whole period is 
embraced, and the very interesting events of it are 
recorded, in the following letter to Mr. Corrie. 



TO SHIRAZ. 267 

«' A few days after my letter to you from Muscat, 
we sailed for the Gulf, and continued cruising a month, 
generally in sight of Persia or Arabia, sometimes of 
both. On the 22nd of May, we landed at Bushire, 

and took up our lodging with Mr. . We are now 

in a new situation. Mrs. and her sister, both 

Armenians, spoke nothing but Persian at table ; the 
servants and children the same. One day a party of 
Armenian ladies came to kiss my hand — the usual 
mark of respect shewn to their own priests ; I was 
engaged at the time, but they begged to have it ex- 
plained that they had not been deficient in their du- 
ty. The Armenian priest was as dull as they usually 
are. He sent for me, one Sunday evening, to come 
to church ; though he was ministering when I entered, 
he came out, and brought me within the rails of the 
altar ; and at the time of incense, censed me four 
times, while the others were honoured with only one 
fling of the censor : this the old man begged me 
afterwards to notice. But though his civility was 
well meant, I could hardly prevail upon myself to thank 
him for it. It was due, he said, to a Padre; thus we 
provide for the honour of our own order, not content- 
ed with that degree of respect which really belongs 
to us. Walking afterwards with him by the sea-shore, 
I tried to engage him in conversation respecting the 
awful importance of our office; but nothing could be 
more vapid and inane than his remarks. 

^* One day we called on the Governor, a Persian 
Khan : he was very particular in his attentions, seated 
me on his own seat, and then sat by my side. After 
the usual salutations and inquiries, the calean (or 
hookah) was introduced ; then coffee, in china cups 
placed within silver ones, then calean, then some rose- 
water syrup, then calean. As there were long inter- 
vals often, in which naught was heard but the gurg- 
ling of the calean, I looked round with some anxiety 
for something to discourse upon, and observing the 



S68 HIS JOURNEY 

windows to be of stained glass, I began to question him 
about the art of colouring glass, observing that the 
modern Europeans were inferior to the ancients in the 
manufacture of that article. He expressed his sur- 
prise that Europeans, who where so skilful in making 
watches, should fail in any handicraft work. I could 
not help recollecting the Emperor of China's sarcastic 
remark on the Europeans and their arts, and therefore 
dropped the subject. On his calean — I called it hookah 
at first, but he did not understand me — I noticed several 
little paintings of the Virgin and child, and asked 
him whether such things were not unlawful among 
the Mahometans 1 He answered very coolly, ' Yes ;' 
as much as to say, ' What then V I lamented that 
the Eastern Christians should use such things in 
their churches. He repeated the words of a good 
man, who was found fault with for having an image 
before him while at prayer : ' God is nearer to me 
than that image, so that I do not see it.' We then 
talked of the ancient Caliphs of Bagdad ; their magni- 
ficence, regard for learning, &c. This man, I after- 
wards found, is like most of the other Grandees of the 
east, a murderer. He was appointed to the Govern- 
ment of Bushire, in the place of Arab Shekh, in 
whose family it had been for many years. The Per- 
sian dreading the resentment of the other Arab fami- 
lies, invited the heads of them to a feast. After they 
had regaled themselves a little, he proposed to them 
to take off their swords, as they were all friends toge- 
ther : they did so, a signal was given, and a band of 
ruffians murdered them all immediately. The Go- 
vernor rode* off with a body of troops to their villages, 
and murdered or secured their wives and children. 
This was about two years and a half ago. 

" Abdalla Aga, a Turk, who expects to be Pacha of 
Bagdad, called to examine us in Arabic ; he is a great 
Arabic scholar himself, and came to see how much 
we knew ; or rather, if the truth were known, to shew 



TO SHIRAZ. 269 

how much he himself knew. There was lately a con- 
spiracy at Bagdad, to murder the Pacha. He was 
desired to add his name, which he did hy compulsion, 
but secured himself from putting his seal to it, pretend- 
ing he had lost it: this saved him. All the conspira- 
tors were discovered and put to death ; he escaped 
with his life, but was obliged to fly to Bushire. • 

On the 30th of May, our Persian dresses were ready, 
-and we set out for Shiraz. The Persian dress consists 
of, first, stockings and shoes in one, next, a pair of 
large blue trowsers, or else a pair of huge red boots ; 
then the ^hirt, then the tunic, and above it the coat. 
I have here described my own dress, most of which I 
have on at this moment. On the head is worn an 
enormoHS cone, made of the skin of the black Tartar 
sheep, with the wool on. If to this description of 
my dress I add, that my beard and mustachios have 
been suffered to vegetate undisturbed ever since I left 
India — that I am sitting on a Persian carpet, in a room 
without tables or chairs — and that I bury my hand in 
the pallau, without waiting for spoon or plate, you 
will give me credit for being already an accomplished 
Oriental. 

*' At ten o'clock on the 30th, our cafila began to 
move. It consisted chiefly of mules, with a few horses. 
I wished to have a mule, but the muleteer favoured 
me with his own pony; this animal had a bell fasten- 
ed to its neck. To add solemnity to the scene, a Bom- 
bay trumpeter, who was going up to join the embassy, 
was directed to blow a blast as w^e moved off the ground; 
but whether it was that the trumpeter was not an 
adept in the science, or that his instrument was out of 
order, the crazy sounds that saluted our ears had a 
ludicrous effect. At last, after some justling, mutual 
recriminations, and recalcitrating of the steeds, we 
each found our places, and moved out of the gate of 
the city in good order. The Resident accompanied us a 
Jittle way, and then left us to pursue our journey over 
z 2 



270 HIS JOURNEY 

the plain. It was a fine moonlight night, the scene new 
and perfectly oriental, and nothing prevented me from 
indulging my own reflections. 1 felt a little melancholy, 
but commended myself anew to God, and felt assured 
of his blessing, presence and protection. As the night 
advanced, the cafila grew quiet. ; on a sudden one of 
the muleteers began to sing, and sang in a voice so 
plaintive, that it was impossible not to have one's atten- 
tion arrested. Every voice was hushed. As you are 
a Persian scholar, I write down the whole, with a 
translation ; 

* Think not that e'er my heart could dwell 

Contented far from thee : 
How can the fresh-caught nightingale 

Enjoy tranquillity ? 

O then forsake thy friend for naught 
That slanderous tongues can say ; 
The heart that fixeth where it ought, 
No power can rend away.' 

*'Thus far my journey was agreeable: now for 
miseries. At sunrise we came to our ground at Ahme- 
dee, six parasangs, and pitched our little tent under a 
tree : it was the only shelter we could get. At first the 
heat was not greater than we had felt in India, but it 
soon became so intense as to be quite alarming. When 
the thermometer was above 112°, fever heat, I began 
to lose my strength fast ; at last it became quite in- 
tolerable. I wrapped myself up in a blanket and all 
the warm covering I could get, to defend myself from 
the external air ; by which means the moisture was 
kept a little longer upon the body, and not so speedily 
evaporated as when the skin was exposed : one of my 
companions followed my example, and found the bene- 
fit of it. But the thermometer still rising, and the 
moisture of the body being quite exhausted, I grew 
restless, and thought I should have lost my senses. 
The thermometer at last sood at 126° : in this state 
J composed myself, and concluded that though I might 



TO SIIIRAZ. 271 

hold out a day or two, death was inevitable. Capt. 

, who sat it out, continued to t.ell the hour and 

height of the thermometer : and with what pleasure did 
we hear of its sinking to 120^, IIS*^, &c. At last the 
fierce sun retired, and I crept out more dead than alive. 
It was then a difficulty how I could proceed on my 
journey ; for besides the immediate effect of the heat, I 
had no opportunity of making up for the last night's 
want of sleep, and had eaten nothing. However, while 
they were loading the mules I got an hour's sleep, and 
set out, the muleteer leading my horse, and Zachariah, my 
servant, an Armenian, of Isfahan, doing all in his pow- 
er to encourage me. The cool air of the night restored 
me wonderfully, so that I arrived at our next munsel 
with no other derangement than that occasioned by 
want of sleep. Expecting another such day as the 
former, we began to make preparation the instant we 
arrived on the ground. I got a tattie made of the 
branches of the date-tree, and a Persian peasant to water 
it; by this means the thermometer did not rise higher 
than 114°. But what completely secured me from the 
heat was a large wet towel, which I wrapped round 
my head and body, muffling up the lower part in clothes. 
How could I but be grateful to a gracious Providence, 
for giving me so simple a defence against what I am 
persuaded, would have destroyed my life that day. 
We took care not to go without nourishment, as we had 
done ; the neighbouring village supplied us with curds 
and milk. At sun-set, rising up to go out, a scorpion 
fell upon my clothes ; not seeing where it fell, I did not 

know what it was ; but Capt. pointing it out, 

gave the alarm, and I struck it off, and he killed it. 
The night before we found a black scorpion in our tent: 
this made us rather uneasy ; so that, though the cafila 
did not start till midnight, we got no sleep, fearing we 
might be visited by another scorpion. 

** The next morning we arrived at the foot of the 
mountains, at a place where we seemed to have dis- 



272 HIS JOURNEY 

covered one of nature's ulcers. A strong suffocating 
smell of naphtha announced something more than ordi- 
narily foul in the neighborhood. We saw a river ;— 
what flowed in it, it is difficult to say, whether it were 
water or green oil ; it scarcely moved, and the stones 
which it laved, it Left of a greyish colour, as if its foul 
touch had given them the leprosy. Our place of en- 
campment this day was a grove of date-trees, where 
the atmosphere, at sun-rise, was ten times hotter than 
the ambient air. ,i I threw myself down on the burning 
ground, and slept : when the tent came up, I awoke, 
as usual, in a burning- fever. All this day, I had re- 
course to the wet towel, which kept me alive, but 
would allow of no sleep. It was a sorrowful sabbath ; 

but Capt. read a few hymns, in which I found great 

consolation. •, At nine in the evening we decamped. 
The ground and air were so insufferably hot, that I 
could not travel without a wet towel round my face and 
neck. This night, for the first time, we began to as- 
cend the mountains. The road often passed so close 
to the edge of the tremendous precipices, that one 
false step of the horse would have plunged his rider 
into inevitable destruction. In such circumstances, I 
found it useless to attempt guiding the animal, and 
therefore gave him the rein. These poor animals are 
so used to journies of this sort, that they generally 
step sure. . There was nothing to mark the road but 
the rocks being a little more worn iri one place than 
another. Sometimes my horse, which led the way, 
as being the muleteer's, stopped, as if to consider about 
the way : for myself, I could not guess, at such times, 
where the road lay, but he always found it. The sub- 
lime scenery would have impressed me much, in other 
circumsances ; but my sleepiness and fatigue rendered 
me insensible to every thing around me. At last we 
emerged superas ad auras, not on the top of a, mountain, 
to go down again — but to a plain or upper world. At 
th^e pass, where a cleft in the mountain admitted us 



TO 6IIIRAZ. 273 

into the plain, was a station of Rahdars. While they 
were examining the muleteer's passports, &c., time was 
given for the rest of the cafila to come up, and I got 
a little sleep for a few minutes. We rode briskly 
over the plain, breathing a purer air, and soon came 
in sight of a fair edifice, built by the king of the country 
for the refreshment of pilgrims. In this caravansera 
we took up our abode for the day. It was more cal- 
culated for eastern than European travellers, having no 
means of keeping out the air and light. We found 
the thermometer at 110^. At the passes we met a man 
travelling down to Bushire with a load of ice, which 
he willingly disposed of to us. The next night we as- 
cended another range of mountains, and passed over 
a plain, where the cold was so piercing, that with all 
the clothes we could muster, we were shivering. At 
the end of this plain, we entered a dark valley con- 
tained by two ranges of hills converging to one another. 
The muleteer gave notice he saw robbers. It proved 
to be a false alarm : but the place was ifitted to be a re- 
treat for robbers ; there being on each side caves and 
fastnesses from which they might have killed every 
man of us. After ascending another mountain, we de- 
scended by a very long and circuitious route into an 
extensive valley, where we were exposed to the sun 
till eight o'clock. Whether from the sun or from con- 
tinued want of sleep, I could not, on my arrival at 
Carzeroon, compose myself to sleep ; there seemed to 
be a fire within my head, my skin like a cinder and 
the pulse violent. Through the day it was again too 
hot to sleep ; though the place we occupied was a 
sort of summer house, in a garden of cypress-trees, ex- 
ceedingly well fitted out with mats and coloured glass. 
Had the cafila gone on that night, I could not have ac- 
companied it, but it halted here a day; by which means 
I got a sort of night's rest, though I awoke twenty times 
to dip my burning hand in water. Though Carzeroon 
AS the second greatest town in Fars, we could get no- 



S74 HIS JOURNEY 

thing but bread, milk and eggs, and those with difficulty. 
The Governor, who is under great obligation to the En- 
glish, heard of our arrival, but sent no message. 

" June 5. — At ten we left Carzeroon, and ascended 
a mountain : we then descended from it, on the other 
side, into a beautiful valley where the opening dawn 
discovered to us ripe fields of wheat and barley, with the 
green oak, here and there in the midst of it. We were 
reminded of an autumnal morning in England. Ther- 
mometer, 62°. 

" June 6. — Half way up the Peergan mountain we 
found a caravansera. There being no village in the 
neighbourhood, we had brought supplies from Caze- 
roon. My servant Zachary got a fall from his mule 
this morning, which much bruised him ; he looked 
very sorrowful, and had lost much of his garrulity. 
Zachary had become remarkable throughout the cafila 
for making speeches ; he had something to say to all 
people, and on all occasions. 

tra^ ^' June 7. — Left the caravansera at one this morning, 
and continued to ascend. The hours we were per- 
mitted to rest, the musquitoes had effectually prevented 
me from using; so that I fteVer felt more miserable 
and disordered ; the cold was very severe ; for fear of 
falling off from sleep and numbness, I walked a good 
part of the way.— We pitched our tent in the vale of 
Dustarjan, near a crystal- stream, in the banks of 
which we observed the clover and golden cup: the 
whole valley was one green field, in which large herds 
of cattle were browsing. The temperature was about 
that of spring in England. Here a few hours sleep 
recovered me, in some degree, from the stupidity in 
which I had been for some days. ' He knoweth our 
frame, and remembereth that we are dust. He re- 
deemeth our life from destruction, and crowneth us with 
loving kindness and tender mercies. He maketh us 
to lie down on the green pastures, and leadeth us beside 
the still waters. And when we have left this vale of 



TO SHIRAZ. 275 

tears, there is no more sorrow, nor sighing, nor any 
more pain. 'The sun shall not light upon thee, nor any 
heat: but the Lamb shall lead thee to living fountains 
of waters.' 

"June 8. — Went on to a caravansera three para- 
sangs, where we passed the day. At night set out 
upon our last march for Shiraz. Sleepiness, my old 
companion and enemy, again overtook me. 1 was in 
perpetual danger of falling off my horse, till at last I 
pushed on to a considerable distance beyond the cafila, 
planted my back against a wall, and slept, I know 
not how long, till the good muleteer came up and 
gently waked me. 

"In the morning of the 9th we found ourselves in 
the plain of Shiraz. We put up at first in a garden, 
but are now at Jaffier Ali Khan's." 

Arrived at the celebrated seat of Persian literature, 
Mr. Marty n, having ascertained the general correct- 
ness of the opinion delivered at Calcutta, respecting 
the translation of the New Testament by Sabat, im- 
mediately commenced another version in the Persian 
language. An able and willing assistant, in this ar- 
duous and important work, presented himself in the 
person of Mirza Seid Ali Khan, the brother-in-law of 
his host, Jaffier Ali Khan. His coadjutor, he soon 
discovered, was one of a numerous and increasing re- 
ligious community, whose tenets — if that term be not 
inapplicable to any thing of so fluctuating and inde- 
finite a nature as their sentiments — appear to consist 
in a refined mysticism of the most latitudinarian com- 
plexion ; a quality, be it remembered, entirely oppo- 
site to the exclusive character and inflexible spirit of 
Christianity ; and which pervading, as it does so com- 
pletely, the system of Soofeism, sufficiently accounts 
for its toleration under a Mahometan despotism, of a 
purer and more absolute kind than exists even in the 
Turkish dominions. 

In Jaffier Ali Khan, a Mahometan of rank and conse- 



276 OCCURRENCES 

quence, to whom Mr. Martyn had letters of recommen- 
dation, he found a singular urbanity of manners, united 
to a temper. of more solid and substantial excellence— 
a kindness of disposition, ever fertile in expedients 
conducive to the comforts and convenience of his guests 
There was in him also, as well as in his brother-in- 
law, what was still more gratifying, an entire absence 
of bigotry and prejudice ; and on all occasions he was 
ready to invite, rather than decline, the freest inter- 
change of opinion on religious topics. 

The work for which Mr. Martyn had come to Shiraz^ 
was commenced on the 17th of .Tune, little more than 
a week after his reaching that city. It was preceded by a 
very pleasing interview with two priests of the Maho- 
^ metan faith of which we have this account. — " In the 
evening, Seid Ali came with two Moollahs, disciples^ 
of his uncle, Mirza Ibraheem, and with them I had a 
very long and temperate discussion. One of them read 
the beginning of St. John, in the Arabic, and enquired 
very particularly into our opinions respecting the person 
of Christ ; and when he was informed that we did not 
consider his human nature eternal, nor his mother di- 
vine, seemed quite satisfied, and remarked to the others, 
* how much misapprehension is removed when people 
come to an explanation.' " 

As Mr. Martyn was himself an object of attention 
and curiosity in Shiraz, and the New Testament itself 
was wholly new to his coadjutor, he was not suffered 
to proceed with his work without many interruptions. 

" Seid Ali," he writes, June 17, "began translating 
the gospel of John with me. We were interrupted 
by the entrance of two very majestic personages, one 
of whom was the great grandson of Nadir Shah. The 
uncle of the present king used to wait behind his fa- 
ther's table. He is now a prisoner here, subsisting 
on a pension, 

Jane 18. — " At the request of our host, who is al- 
ways planning something for our amusement, we passed 



AT SHIRAZ. 277 

the day at a house built half-way up one of the hills 
which surround the town. A little rivulet, issuing 
from the rock, fertilizes a few yards of ground, which 
bear in consequence, a cypress or two, sweet briar, 
jessamine and pinks. Here, instead of a quiet retreat, 
we found a number of noisy, idle fellows, who were 
gambling all day, as loquacious as the men who occu- 
py an ale house bench. The Persians have certainly 
a most passionate regard for water : I suppose because 
they have so little of it. There was nothing at all in 
this place worth climbing so high for except the little 
rivulet." 

June 22. — '' The prince's secretary who is considered 
to be the best prose-writer in Shiraz, called upon us. 
One of his friends wanted to talk about Soofeism. 
They believe they know not what. It is mere vanity 
that makes them profess this mysticism. He thought 
to excite my wonder by telling me, that I and every 
created thing, was God. I asked how this was con- 
sistent with his religion ] He then mentioned the 
words of the Koran, " God can be with another thing 
only by pervading it." Either from curiosity, or to 
amuse themselves at an Indian's expense, they called 
in an Indian Moonshee, who had come with us from 
Bengal, and requested him to recite some of his poetry. 
Thus I had an opportunity of witnessing this exhibition 
of eastern folly. After a few modest apologies, the 
Indian grew bold, and struck off a few stanzas. The 
Persians affected to admire them, though it was easy to 
see that they were laughing at his pronunciation and 
foreign idiom. However, they condescended to recite, 
in their turn, a line or two of their own composition ; 
and before they went away, wrote down a stanza or 
two of the Indian's to signify that they were worth 
preserving." 

June 26. — " Two young men from the college, full of 
zeal and logic, came this morning, to try me with hard 
questions, such as, Whether being be one or two? What 
2 A 



278 OCCURRENCES 

is the state and form of disembodied spirits ? and other 
foolish and unlearned questions ministering strife, on 
all which I declined wasting my breath. At last, one of 
them, who was about twenty years of age, discovered 
the true cause of his coming, by asking me bluntly, 
to bring a proof for the religion of Christ. ' You allow 
the divine mission of Christ,' said I, 'why need I 
prove it V Notbeing able to draw me into an argument, 
they said what they wished to say, namely, ' that I had 
no other proof for the miracles of C hrist than they had for 
those of Mahomet; which is tradition.' 'Softly,' said I, 
'youwillbe pleased to observe a difference between your 
books and ours. When by tradition, we have reached our 
several books, our narrators were eye-witnesses; yours 
are not, nor nearly so.' In consequence of the in- 
terruption these lads gave me, for they talked a long 
time with great intemperance, I did little to-day. 

" In the evening Seid Ali asked me ' the cause of 
evil V I said, ' I knew nothing about it.' He thought 
he could tell me, so 1 let him reason on, till he soon 
found he knew as little about the matter as myself. 
He wanted to prove that there was no real difference 
between good and evil — that it was only apparent. I 
observed that this difference if only apparent, was the 
cause of a great deal of real misery. 

" While correcting the fifth of John, he was not a 
little surprised at finding such an account as that of an 
angel coming down and troubling the waters. When 
he found that I had no way of explaining it, but was 
obliged to understand it literally, he laTughed, as if say- 
ing, 'there are other fools in the world besides Maho- 
metans.' I tried to lessen his contempt and incredu- 
lity by saying, that 'the first inquiry was — is the book 
from God 1' 'Oh! to be sure;' said he, 'it is written 
in the Bible ; we must believe it.' I asked him 
* whether there was any thing contrary to reason in the 
narrative ? whether it was not even possible that the sa- 
lubrious powers of other springs were owing to the de- 



AT SIXIRAZ. 27^ 

Scent of an angel?' Lastly, I observed, ' that all natur- 
ral agents might be called the angels of God.' ' This,' 
said he, ' was consonant to their opinions ; and that 
when they spoke of the angels of the winds, the angel 
of death &c., nothing more was meant than the cause 
of the winds,' &rc. 

June 27. — " Before I had taken my breakfast, the 
younger of the youths came, and forced me into a con- 
versation. As soon as he heard the word ' Father,' 
in the translation, used for ' God,' he laughed, and 
went away. " Soon after, two men came in, and spoke 
violently for hours. Seid Ali, and a respectable 
Mouluvvee, W'hom he brought to introduce to me, took 
up the cudgels against them, and said that the ' onus 
prooandi rested wuth them, not with me.' Zachariah, 
told me this morning, that I was the town talk; that 
it was asserted that I w^as come to Shiraz to be a 
Mussulman, and should then bring five thousand men 
to Shiraz under pretence of making them Mussulmen, 
but in reality to take the city. 

June 28. — *'The poor boy, while writing how one 
of the servants of the high-priest struck the Lord on 
the face, stopped and said, ' Sir, did not his hand dry 
up.' 

June 30. — Sunday, — "Preached to the Ambassa- 
dor's suite on the ' faithful saying.' In the evening 
baptized his child.' 

July 1. — ''A party of Armenians came and said, 
among other things, that the Mahometans would be 
glad t») be under our English government. Formerly 
they dispised and hated the Feringees, but now they 
began to say, ' What harm do they do ? they take no 
man's wafe — no man's property. 

" Abdoolghunee, the Jew Mahometan, came to prove 
that he had found Mahomed in the Pentatuch. Among 
other strange things, he said that the Edomites meant 
the Europeans, and that Mount Sion was in Europe. 
Afterwards Seid Ali asked me to tell him in confidence, 



1280 OCCURRENCES 

why I believed no prophet could come after Christ. I 
chose to begin with the Atonement, and wished to shew, 
that it was of such a nature, that salvation by another 
was impossible. * You talk,' said he, ' of the Atone- 
ment, but I do not see it any where in the Gospels.' 
After citing two passages from the Gospels, I read 
the third chapter of Romans, and the fifty-third of Isaiah. 
With the latter he was much struck. He asked many 
more questions, the scope of which was, that though 
Islam might not be true, he might still remain in it, 
and be saved by the gospel. I said, 'you deny the 
divinity of Christ.' — ' I see no difficulty in that,' said 
he. 'You do not observe the institutions of Christ — 
Baptism and the Lord's Supper.' — ' These,' said he, 
* are mere emblems, and if a man have the reality, what 
need of emblems?' 'Christ,' said I, ' foresaw that the 
reality would not be so constantly perceived without 
them, and therefore enjoined them.' He said that in 
his childhood he used to cry while hearing about the 
sufferings of Christ,' and he wept while mentioning 
it." 

The 3rd of July was distinguishedby a conversation 
kept up between Mr. Martyn and two Moollahs, one 
of whom displayed a very different spirit from that 
which had actuated those ministers of the Mahometan 
religion who first visited him. "The Jewish Moollah 
Abdoolghunee, with Moollah Abhulhasan," he writes, 
"came prepared for a stiff disputation, and accord- 
ingly the altercation was most violent. Jaffier Ali 
Khan and Mirza Seid Ali were present, with many 
others. The Jew began by asking, whether we believed 
that Jesus suffered?" I referred him to the 9th of Da- 
niel: ' Messiah shall becut off, but not for himself.' I 
begged him to shew who was the Messiah, of whom 
Daniel spoke, if it was not Jesus. 

"At Abulhasan's request, he began to give his rea- 
sons for believing that Mahomet was foretold in the 
Old Testament. The Jew wanted to show that when 



AT SHIRAZ. 281 

it is said, 'Moses went out, and the twelve princes 
with him,' the meaning is that Moses had twelve re- 
ligious Khaleefs, just like Mahomet. I explained to 
the Mussulman, that they were not for religious affairs, 
but worldly — deciding causes, &c. ; — and that religious 
services were confined to one tribe. 

"He proceeded to Deut. xviii, 18. 'The Lord will 
raise from among their brethren.' ' Brethren,' he said, 
* must mean some other than Jews. That Moses and 
Jesus were not alike. Moses gave a law before he 
went: Jesus did not: his disciples made one for him; 
whereas Mahomet left a book himself. That Moses 
was a w^arrior ; that Christ was not ; but that Maho- 
met was.' I replied — ' That the words of God, from 
among their brethren^'' Moses explained by those, ' from 
among thee,- and that this excludes the possibility of 
Mahomet being meant.' After they were gone, I found 
Lev. xxv. 46, which supplies a complete answer. In 
reply to the objection, that Moses and Christ were not 
alike, I said ' that, in respect of the prophetic office, 
there was such a likeness as did not exist between any 
other two prophets ; — in that each brought a neiv law, 
and each was a Mediator J^ 

"The Jews next read the sixtj-first of Isaiah, and 
commented. I then read the same chapter, and ob- 
served, that Christ had cited one of the passages for 
himself. ' The spirit of the Lord is upon me,' &c. 
This they attended to, because Christ had said so,- but 
as for Peter's appropriating the passage in Deuterono- 
my to Christ, (Acts iii.) they made no account of it. 
So ignorant are they of the nature of revelation. 

" When we were separating, the Moollah Abul- 
hasan gravely asked me, whether, if I saw proof of 
Mahomet's miracles, I would believe, and act as one 
who sought the truth V I told him, ' I wished for 
nothing but the truth.' He then said, * we must have 
an umpire.' * But where,' said I, ' shall we find an 
impartial one.' ' He must be a Jew,' said one. * Well 
2 A 2 



S82 OCCURRENCES 

then,' added another, ' let Abdoolghunee be the man.' 
The apostate Jew swore, by the four sacred books, 
that he would give 'just judgment.' I could not con- 
ceal my indignation at such a ridiculous proposal, and 
said to the Jew, ' You impartial ! As a Mahometan, 
you ought to speak well of Christ ; but it is easy to 
see, that, like your brethren, you hate Jesus as bitterly 
as ever.' He was quite alarmed at this charge before the 
Mahometans, by w^homhe has long been considered as 
no true Mahometan ; and, in the most gentle manner 
possible, he assured me, that ' none could have a 
greater respect for Jesus than he had; and ih^itpos- 
slbli/, in the text of Deuteronomy, Jesus might be 
meant as well as Mahomet.' 

" At the end of this vehement controversy, when 
they were most of them gone, I said to Seid Ali, ' that 
I had thought, whatever others did, he would not have 
denied me common justice. He took me aside, and 
said to me very earnestly, 'you did not understand 
me. Abulhasan is my enemy : nothing does he want 
so much as to bring me into danger ; I must therefore 
show some little regard for the religion.' He told me, 
that Mirza Ibrahim, the preceptor of all the Moollahs, 
was now writing a book in defence of Mahometanism, 
and that it was to this that Abulhasan alluded, as that 
which was to silence me forever. 

" July 4. — Seid Ali having informed the Jew that 
I had found an answer to his argument from Genesis 
xiv., he came to know what it was, and staid the 
whole morning, asking an infinity of questions. He 
showed himself extremely well read in the Hebrew 
Bible and Koran, quoting both with the utmost readi- 
ness. He argued a little for the Koran, but very cold- 
ly. He concluded by saying, 'he must come to me 
every day ; and either make me a Mussulman, or be- 
come himself a Christian.' " 

The progress of the translation gave rise to the 
following affecting discourse between Seid Ali and 



AT SHIRAZ. 283 

Mr. Martyn. *'Seid AH, while perusing the' twelfth 
of John, observed — ' How he loved these twelve per- 
sons ! ' Yes,' said I ; * and all those who believe on 
Him through their word.' After our work was done, 
he began to say, ' From my childhood I have been in 
search of a religion, and am still undecided. Till 
now, I never had an opportunity of conversing with 
those of another religion : the English I have met in 
Persia have generally been soldiers, or men occupied 
with the world.' To some remarks I made about 
the necessity of having the mind made up upon such a 
subject, considering the shortness of our stay here, he 
seemed cordially to assent, and shed tears. I re- 
commended prayer and the consideration of that text, 
* If an)*- man will do his will, he shall know of the 
doctrine ; — and spoke as having found it verified in 
my own experience ; — that when I could once say be- 
fore God, ' What wilt thou have me to do!' — I found 
peace. I then went through ail the different states of 
my mind at the time I was called to the knowledge of 
the gospel. He listened with great interest and said 
— ' You must not regard the loss of so much time as 
you give me, because it does me good.' " 

The situation of those whose forefathers crucifi- 
ed the Lord of glory, is ever pitiable to a Christian 
mind : but how much more are the Jews entitled to 
compassion, when groaning under the iron rod of op- 
pression on the one hand, and tempted on the other to 
exchange their own religion for a base imposture, 
upon the basest considerations. Who can read the 
following account of their condition at Shiraz, with- 
out sighing over the depth of their temporal and spi- 
ritual degradation ! 

" July 5. — The Jew came again with another Jew, 
both Mussulmen. The prince gives every Jew, on 
conversion, an honorary dress ; so they are turning 
Mahometans every day. A young man, son of the 
old Jew, asked — ' How it could be supposed that God 



284 OCCURRENCES 

would leave so many nations so long in darkness — if 
Islam" be an error r The father sat, with great com- 
placency, to see how I could get over this. I asked, 
* Why God, for four thousand years, made himself 
known to their nation only, and left all the rest in 
darkness?' — They were silent. 

*' The old man, forgetting he was a Mussulman, 
asked again — ' If Jesus was the Messiah, why did not 
the fiery wrath of God break out against them, as it did 
formerly for every small offence V ' But first,' said 
he,' ' what do you think of God's severity to the Jews 
at other times V I said, ' If my son do any thing 
wrong, I punish him ; but with the thieves and mur- 
derers out of doors, I have nothing to do.' This af- 
fected the old man ; and his son recollected many 
passages in the Bible appropriate to this sentiment, 
and said — * Yes, they were indeed a chosen genera- 
tion.' I proceeded — 'but did not the wrath of God 
break out against you at the death of Christ in a 
more dreadful manner than ever it did V They men- 
tioned th« captivity. ' But what,' said I, ' was the 
captivity 1 It lasted but seventy years. But now seven- 
teen hundred years have passed away : and have you 
a King ? or a Temple 1 Are you not mean and de- 
spised every where V They seemed to feel this, and 
nodded assent. 

Buring this conversation, I said—' God has rais- 
ed up a great prophet from the midst of you, and now 
you are gone after a stranger, of a nation who were 
always your enemies. You acknowledge Jesus in- 
deed ; but it is only for fear of the swOrd of the Ish- 
maelite.' They wondered why the Christians should 
love them more than they do the Mahometans, as I told 
them we did ; and pretended to argue against it as 
unrBasonabie ; evidently from a wish to hear me re- 
peat a truth which was so agreeable to them." 

On the morning of the 6th, Mr. Martyn, ever anx- 
ious to pay all due reverence to < the powers that be,' 



AT SHIRAZ. 285 

presented himself, with the Ambassador and suite, 
before Prince Abbas Mirza : He thus describes the 
ceremony. '* Early this morning I went with the 
Ambassador and his suite to court, wearing, agreeable 
to costume, a pair of red cloth stockings, with green 
high-heeled shoes. When we entered the great court 
of the palace, a hundred fountains began to play. — 
The prince appeared at the opposite side, in his talar, 
or hall of audience, seated on the ground. Here our 
first bow was made. When we came in sight of him 
we bowed a second time, and entered the room. He 
did not rise, nor take notice of any but the Ambassa- 
dor, with whom he conversed at the distance of the 
breadth of the room. Two of his ministers stood in 
front of the hall, outside; the Ambassador's Mih- 
mander, and the Master of the Ceremonies, within, at 
the door. We sat down in order, in a line with the 
Ambassador, with our hats on. I never saw a more 
sweet and engaging countenance than the Prince's : 
there was such an appearance of good nature and hu- 
mility in all his demeanour, that I could scarcely 
bring myself to believe that he would be guilty of 
any thing cruel or tyrannical." 

The Jewish Moollah, who, a few days before, had 
attempted to support a heresy which he himself did 
not believe, revisited Mr. Martyn, accompanied by 
one of his brethren who had apostatized. These 
were followed, on the same day, by two other visitors, 
one of whom was a man of great consequence, and of 
equal courtesy. — " The Jew came again," he says, 
with one of his apostate brethren from Bagdad. As 
he was boasting to Seid Ali, that he had gained one 
hundred Jews to Islam, I could not help saying, I will 
tell ycfu how Jews are mads Mahometans. First, the 
Prince gives them a dress ; secondly — here the old 
man coloured, and interrupting me, began to urge, 
that it was not with the hope of any worldly ad- 
vantage. 



286 OCCURRENCES 

•* His object to-day was, to prove that the passages 
in the Old Testament, which we applied to Jesus, jdid 
not belong to him. I referred him to the 16th Psalm. 
He said, 'that none of the prophets saw corruption.' 
He did not recollect the miracle wrought by the bones 
of Elisha; neither did I at the time. 

*' Mahommed Shareef Khan, one of the most re- 
nowned of the Persian generals, having served the 
present royal family for four generations, called to see 
me, out of respect to General Malcolm. An Arme- 
nian priest also, on his way from Bussorah to Isfahan : 
he was as ignorant as the rest of his brethren. To 
my surprise I found he was of the Latin ChurQh, and 
read the service in Latin ; though he confessed he 
knew nothing about the language." . ^ 

Mr. Martyn, unwilling to lose any opportunity (if 
it were the will of God) of benefiting the inhabitants 
of Shiraz, was never inaccessible to them. Strict as 
he was in the observance of the Sabbath, he admitted 
them even on that day to speak with him, for he had 
learned the import of those words, "I will have mer- 
cy and not sacrifice." In consequence, however, of 
his removal, in the middle of the month of July, to 
a garden in the suburbs of the city, where his kind 
host had pitched a tent for him, to relieve the tedium 
of confinement within the walls of Shiraz — he prose- 
cuted the work before him uninterruptedly. " Living 
amidst clusters of grapes, by the side of a clear 
stream," as he describes it, and frequently sitting un- 
der the shade of an orange tree, which JafRer Ali 
Khan delighted to point out to visitors, he passed ma- 
ny a tranquil hour, and enjoyed many a Sabbath of 
holy rest and divine refreshment. Of one of these 
Sabbaths, he thus writes. July 14. — "The first Sab- 
bath morning I have had to myself this long. time, and 
I spent it with comfort and profit. Read Isaiah 
chiefly ; and hymns, which, as usual, brought to 
my remembrance the children of God in all parts 



PUBLIC DISCUSSION, &c. 287 

of the earth ; remembered, especially, dear — — , as 
he desired me, on this his birth-day." 



S5©e 

CHAPTER IX. 

FIRST PUBLIC DISCUSSION AT SHIRAZ — MR. MARTYN RE- 
PLIES TO A DEFENCE OP MAHOMETANISM — INTERVIEW 

WITH THE HEAD OF THE SOOFIES VISITS PERSEPOLIS— 

TRANSLATIONS DISCUSSIONS. 

The day following this happy, though solitary 
Sabbath, formed a contrast to' its peaceful and sacred 
serenity ; being the day of Mr. Martyn's first public 
controversy with the Mahometans. 

After some hesitation and demur, the Moojtuhid, or 
Professor of Mahometan Law, consented to a discus- 
sion upon religious topics. He was a man of great 
consequence in Shiraz, being the last authority in the 
decision of all matters connected with his profession ; 
so that a contest with him, as it respected rank, pre- 
judice, popularity, and reputation for learning, was 
manifestly an unequal one. Mr. Martyn, however, 
fearlessly engaged in it, knowing in whom he had 
believed. 

The subjoined is the account he has left of this 
disputation — if such indeed it can be called ; — for t^ia 
Professor, it seems, could not so far forget his official 
dignity, as to dispute fairly and temperately ; — he 
preferred the easier task of dogmatising magisterially. 

*'He first ascertained from Seid Ali," says Mr. 
Martyn, " that I did not want demonstration, but ad- 
mitted that the prophets had been sent. So, being a 
little easy at this assurance, he invited us to dinner. 
About eight o'clock at night we went, and after pass- 
ing along many an avenue, we entered a fine court, 
where was a pond, and by the side of it a platform, 
eight feet high, covered with carpets. Here sat the 
Moojtuhid in state, with a considerable number of his 



S88 PUBLIC DISCUSSION 

learned friends — among the rest, I perceived the Jew. 
One was at his prayers. I was never more disgusted 
at the mockery of this kind of prayer. He went 
through the evolutions with great exactness, and pre- 
tended to be unmoved at the noise and chit-chat of 
persons on each side of him. The Professor seated 
Seid Ali on his right hand, and me on his left. Eve- 
ry thing around bore the appearance of opulence and 
ease: and the swarthy obesity of the little personage 
himself, led me to suppose that he had paid more at- 
tention to cooking than to science. But when he be- 
gan to speak, I saw reason enough for his being so 
much admired. The substance of his speech was flimsy 
enough ; but he spoke with uncommon fluency and 
clearness, and with a manner confident and imposing. 
He talked for a full hour about the soul; its being 
distinct from the body; superior to the brutes, &c. ; 
about God ; his unity, invisibility, and other obvious 
and acknowledged truths. After this followed another 
discourse. At length, after clearing his way for miles 
around, he said, ' that philosophers had proved that a 
single being could produce but a single being; — that 
the first thing God had created was Wisdom — a being 
perfectly one with him ; after that, the souls of men, 
and the seventh heaven ; and so on, till he produced 
matter, which is merely passive.' He illustrated the 
theory, by comparing all being to a circle ; at one ex- 
tremity of the diameter is God, at the opposite ex- 
tremity of the diameter, is matter, than which nothing 
in the world is meaner. Rising from thence, the 
highest stage of matter is connected with the lowest 
stage of vegetation ; the highest of the vegetable world 
with the lowest of the animal ; and so on, till we ap- 
proach the point from which all proceeded. * But,' 
said he, 'you will observe, that next to God, something 
ought to be, which is equal to God ; for since it is 
equally near, it possesses equal dignity. What this 
is, philosophers are not agreed upon. ' You,' said he, 



AT 6HIRAZ. fi89 

• say it is Christ ; but we, that it is the spirit of the 
prophets. All this is what the philosophers have 
proved, independently of any particular religion.' I 
rather imagined that it was the invention of some an- 
cient Oriental Christian, to make the doctrine of the 
Trinity appear more reasonable. There were a hun- 
dred things in the Professor's harangue that might 
have been excepted against, as mere dreams supported 
by no evidence; but I had no inclination to call in 
question dogmas, of the truth or falsehood of which 
nothing in religion depended. 

*' He was speaking at one time, about the angels; 
and asserted that man was superior to them; and that 
no being greater than man could be created. Here 
the Jew reminded me of a passage in the Bible, quot- 
ing something in Hebrew. I was a little surprised, 
and was just about to ask, where he found any thing 
in the Bible to support such" a doctrine ; when the 
Moojtuhid, not thinking it worthwhile to pay any at- 
tention to what the Jew said, continued his discourse. 
At last the Jew grew impatient, and finding an op- 
portunity of speaking, said to me, " why do not you 
speak 1 — why do not you bring forward you objec- 
tions 1" The Professor at the close of one of his 
long speeches, said to me, ' You see how much there 
is to be said on these subjects ; several visits will be 
necessary ; we must come to the point by degrees.* 
Perceiving how much he dreaded a close discussion, 
I did not mean to hurry him, but let him talk on, not 
expecting we should have any thing about Mahomet- 
anism the first night. But at the instigation of the 
Jew, I said, ' Sir, you see that Addoolghunee is anx- 
ious that you should say something about Islam.' — 
He was much displeased at being brought so prema- 
turely to the weak point, but could not decline accept- 
ing so direct a challenge. ' Well,' said he to me, ' I 
must ask you a few questions — why do you believe in 
Christ?' I replied, ♦ That is not the question. I am 
2 B 



29i) PUBLIC DISCiTSSION 

at liberty to say, that I do not believe in any religion; 
that I am a plain man, seeking the way of salvation ; 
that it was, moreover, quite unnecessary to prove the 
truth of Christ to Mahometans, because they allowed 
it.' ' No such thing,' said he. ' The Jesus we ac- 
knowledge, is he who was a prophet, a mere servant 
of God, and one who bore testimony to Mahomet; 
not your Jesus, whom you call God,' said he, with a 
contemptuous smile. He then enumerated the per- 
sons who had spoken of the miracles of Mahomet, 
and told a long story about Salmon, the Persian, who 
had come to Mahomet. I asked ' whether this Sal- 
mon had written an account of the miracles he had 
seen V He confessed that he had not. ' Nor,' said I, 
' have you a single witness to the miracles of Maho- 
met.' He then tried to show, that though they had not, 
there was still sufficient evidence. ' For,' said he, 
' suppose five hundred persons should say that they 
heard some particular thing of a hundred persons who 
were with Mahomet — would that be sufficient evidence 
or not I' ' Whether it be or not,' said I, 'you have 
no such evidence as that, nor any thing like it; but 
if you have, as they are something like witnesses, 
we must proceed to examine them, and see whether 
their testimony deserves credit.' 

"After this, the Koran was mentioned; but as the 
company began to thin, and the great man had not a 
sufficient audience before whom to display his eloquence, 
the dispute was not so brisk. He did not indeed, seem 
to think it worth while to notice my objections. He 
mentioned a well known sentence in the Koran as 
being inimitable ; I produced another sentence, and 
begged to know why it was inferior to the Koranic one. 
He declined saying why, under pretence that it re- 
quired such a knowledge of rhetoric in order to under- 
stand his proofs, as I probably did not possess. A 
scholar afterwards came to Seid Ali, with twenty rea- 
sons for preferring Mahomet's sentence to mine."^ 



AT SHI HAS. 991 

*' It was midnight when dinner, or rather supper, 
was brought in ; it was a sullen meal. The great man 
was silent; and I was sleepy. Seid Ali, however, 
had not had enough. While burying his hand in the 
dish of the professor, he softly mentioned some more 
of my objections. He was so vexed, that he scarcely 
answered any thing ; but after supper, told a very long 
story, all reflecting upon me. He described a grand 
assembly of Christians, .Tews, Guebres, and Sabi-ans 
(for they generally do us the honour of stringing us 
with the other three,) before Iman Ruza^ 

"The Christians were of course defeated and silenc- 
ed. It was a remark of the Iman^'s, in which the 
Professor acquiesced, 'that it is quite useless for 
Mahometans and Christians to argue together, as they 
had different languages and different histories.' To 
the last I said nothing ; but to the former replied by 
relating the fable of the lion and man, which amused 
Seid Ali so much, that he laughed out before the great 
man, and all the way home." 

So universal a spirit of inquiry had been excited in 
the city of Shiraz, by Mr. Martyn's frequent disputa- 
tions, as well as by the notoriety of his being engaged 
m a translation of the New Testament "into Persian, 
that the Prece^otor of all the Moollahs began greatly to 
'fear whereunto this would grow.' On the 2Gth of July, 
therefore, an Arabic defence of Mahometanism made 
its appearance from his pen. A considerable time had 
been spentin its preparation ; and, on seeing the light, 
it obtained the credit of surpassing all former treatises 
upon Islam. 

This work, as far as a judgment of it can be formed 
from a translation discovered amongst Mr. Martyn's 
papers, is written with much temper and moderation, 
and with as much candour as is consistent with that 
degree of subtilty which is indispensable in an apology 
for so glaring an imposture as Mahometanism. 

The chief Moollah begins by declaring his desire to 



293 MR. MARTYN REPLIES. 

avoid all altercation and wrangling^ ; and expresses his 
hope that God would guide into the right way those 
whom he chose. He then endeavours, in the body of 
the work, to shew the superiority of the single perpe- 
tual miracle of the Koran, addressed to the understand- 
ing, above the variety of miricles wrought by Moses 
and by Christ, which were originally addressed only 
to the senses ; and that these, from lapse of time, become 
every day less and less powerful in their influence. And 
he concludes with the following address to Mr. Martyn: — 

" Thus behold, then, O thou that art wise, and con- 
sider with the eye of justice, since thou hast no ex- 
cuse to offer to God. Thou hast wished to see the 
truth of miracles. We desire you to look at the great 
Koran : that is an everlasting miracle. 

" This was finished by Ibraheem ben al Hosyn, 
after the evening of the second day of the week, the 
23d of the month lemadi, the second in the year 12:23 
of the Hegira of the Prophet. On him who fled be 
a thousand salutations !" 

This work Mr. Martyn immediately set himself ta 
refute, in dependence on his Saviour to ' give him a wis* 
dom which his adversaries should not be able to gain- 
say.' His answer was divided into two parts : the 
first was principally devoted to an attack upon Maho- 
metanism ; the second was intended to display the 
evidences and establish the authority of the Christian 
faith. It was written in Persian, and from a transla- 
tion of the first part which has been found, we per- 
ceive that Mr. Martyn, * having suchliope, used great 
plainness of speech ;' while at the same time he treated 
his opponent with meekness and courtesy. 

After replying to the various arguments of Mirza 
Ibraheem, Mr. Martyn shews why men are bound to 
reject Mahometanism; — that Mahomet was foretold 
by no prophet; that he worked no miracles; — that 
he spread his religion by means merely human ; and 
framed his precepts and promises to gratify men's 



MR. MARTVN REPLIES. 293 

sensuality, both here and hereafter; — that he was most 
ambitious, both for himself and his family ; — that his 
Koran is full of gross absurdities and palpable contra- 
dictions ; — that it contains a method of salvation 
wholly inefficacious, which Mr. Martyn contrasted with 
the glorious and efficacious way of salvation held out in 
the gospel, through the divine atonement of Jesus 
Christ. He concludes by addressing Mirza Ibraheem 
in these words : — 

" I beg you to view these things wdth the eye of 
impartiality. If the evidence be indeed convincing, 
mind not the contempt of the ignorant, nor even death 
itself; — for the vain world is passing away like the 
wind of the desert. 

" If you do not see the evidence to be sufficient, my 
pra3^er is, that God may guide you ; so that you, who 
have been a guide to men in the way you thought right, 
may now both see the truth, and call men to God through 
Jesus Christ, ' who hath loved us, and washed us from 
our sins in his blood,' His glory and dominion be 
everlasting!" 

Reverting to the Journal, we meet with the follow- 
ing statements illustrative of the Persian character, and 
descriptive of the genius of Soofeism. From these, 
also, we discover, that notwithstanding individuals 
were to be found in Shiraz, who professed Mahometan- 
ism without having imbibed the spirit of cruelty and 
extermination which belongs to it, Mr. Martyn was 
nevertheless exposed to personal danger there, and sub- 
ject to much contempt and many insults. 

** July 29. — Mirza Ibraheem declared publicly be- 
fore all his disciples, ' that if I really confuted his argu- 
ments, he should be bound in conscience to become a 
Christian.' Alas ! from such a declaration I have little 
hope, his general good character, for uprightness and 
unbounded kindness to the poor would be a much 
stronger reason with me for believing that he may per- 
haps be a Cornelius," 

2 B 2 



294 MR. MARTYN REPLIES. 

f *' Aug. 2 — Much against his will, Mirza Ibraheem was 
obliged to go to his brother, who is Governor of some 
town, thirty-eight parasangs off. To the last naoment, 
he continued talking with his nephew, on the subject 
of his book, and begged that, in case of his detention, 
my reply might be sent to him." 

" Aug. 7. — My friends talked, as usual much, about 
what they called Divine Love; but I do not very well 
comprehend what they mean. They love not the holy 
God, but the God of their own imagination ; — a God 
who will let them do as they please. 

" I often remind Seid Ali of one defect in his system, 
which is that there is no one to stand between his sins 
and God — Knowing what I allude to, he says, ' Well 
if the death of Christ intervene, no harm ; Soofeism 
can admit this too.' " 

*' Aug. 14. — Returned to the city in a fever, which 
continued all the next da}^ until the evening." 

" Aug.l5. — Jani Khan, in rank corresponding to one 
of our Scotch dukes, as he is the head of all the military 
tribes of Persia, and chief of his own tribe, which con- 
sists of twenty thousand families, called on Jaffier Ali 
Khan, with a message from the king. He asked me a 
o-reat number of questions, and disputed a little. * I sup- 
pose,' said he, 'you consider us all as infidels V 'Yes,' 
replied I, ' the whole of you.' He was mightily 
pleased with my frankness, and mentioned it when he 
was going away." 

<' Aug 32. — The copyest having shewn my answer 
to a Moodurris, called Moollah Acben he wrote on the 
margin with great acrimony, but little sense. Seid Ali 
having shewn his remarks in some companies, they 
begged him not to shew them to me, for fear I should 
disgrace them all through the folly of one man." 

*' Aug. 23. — Ruza Cooli Mirza, the great grandson 
of Nadir Shah, and Aga Mahomed Hasan, called. The 
prince's nephew hearing of my attack on Mahomet, 
observed, that "the proprer answer to it was the sword ;** 



TH£ SOOFIES, ETC, 295 

but the prince confessed that he began to have his 
doubts. On his inquiring- what were the laws of 
Christianity — meaning the number of times of prayer, 
the different washings, &c., I said that we had two 
commandments: 'Thou shait love the Lord thy God with 
all thy heart, and all thy soul, and all thy strength; 
and thy neighbour as thyself.' He asked 'what could 
be better]' and continued praising them. 

" The Moollah Aga Mahommed Hassan, himself a 
Moodurris, and a very sensible, candid man, asked a 
good deal about the European philosophy ; particularly 
what we did in metaphysics ; — for instance, ' how, 
or in what sense, the body of Christ ascended into hea- 
ven ■?' He talked of free-will and fate, and reasoned 
high, and at last reconciled them according to the 
doctrines of the Soofies, by saying, that ' as all being 
is an emanation of the Deity, the will of every being 
is only the will of the Deity; so that therefore, in fact, 
free-will and fate are the same.' He has nothing to 
find fault with in Christianity, except the Divinity of 
Christ. It is this doctrine that exposes me to the con- 
tempt of the learned Mahometans, in whom it is diffi- 
cult to say whether pride or ignorance predominates. 
Their sneers are more difficult to bear than the brick- 
bats which the boys sometimes throw at me: how- 
ever, both are an honour of which I am not worthy. 
How many times in the day have I occasion to repeat 
the words, 

* If on my face for thy dear naracj 

Shame and reproaches be ; 
All hail, reproach, and welcome shame» 

If thou remember me.' 

•* The more they wish me to give up this one point— 
the Divinity of Christ — the more I seem to feel the 
necessity of it, and rejoice and glory in it. Indeed I 
trust I would sooner give up my life than surrender it." 

The following account of an interview to which 
Mr. Martyn was admitted, with the head of the sect of 



296 DISCUSSIONS WITH 

the SoofieSjWill interest those whose thoughts are tam- 
ed towards the state of religion in the east : a large 
proportion of the people of Shiraz, it is computed, are 
either the secret or avowed disciples of Mirza Abul- 
casim. Whenever ' a great and effectual door' is opened 
for Christianity ' there are many adversaries.' It is 
otherwise with a delusion congenial to the ' desires of 
the flesh and of the mind, in fallen man. Such a 
system the God of this world is concerned to uphold 
rather than oppose. 

" In the evening we went to pay a long promised 
visit to Mirza Abulcasim, one of the most renowned 
Soofies in all Persia. We found several persons sitting 
in an open court, in which a few greens and flowers 
were placed : the master was in a corner. He was a 
very fresh looking old man, v/ith a silver beard. I was 
surprised to observe the downcast and sorrowful looks 
of the assembly, and still more at the silence which 
reigned. After sitting some time in expectation, 
and being not at all disposed to waste my time in sit- 
ting there, I said softly to Seid Ali, 'What is thisT 
He said, ' It is the custom here, to think much and 
speak little.' ' May I ask the master a question V 
said I, With some hesitation he consented to let me : 
so I begged Jaffier Ali to inquire which is the way to 
be happy ] 

'^ This he did in his own manner : he began by ob- 
serving, that 'there was a great deal of misery in the 
world, and that the learned shared as largely in it as 
the rest; that I wished, therefore, to know what we 
must do to escape it.' The master replied, that ' for 
his part he did not know, but that it was usually said 
that the subjugation of the passions was the shortest 
way to happiness.' 

" After a considerable pause, I ventured to ask 
' what were his feelings in the prospect of death ; — 
hope, or fear, or neither V ' Neither,' said he, and that 
' pleasure and pain were both alike,' I then perceived 



THE SOOFIES, ETC. C97 

that the Stoics were Greek Soofies. I asked, 'whether 
he had attained this apathy V He said, ' No.' ' Why- 
do you think it attainable]' He could not tell. ' Why 
do you think that pleasure and pain are not the same V 
said Seid Ali, taking his master's part. ' Because,' 
said I, * I have the evidence of my senses for it. And 
you also act as i( there was a difference. Why do you 
eat but that you fear pain]' These silent sages sat 
unmoved. 

One of the disciples is the son of Moojtuhid, who, 
greatly to the vexation of his father, is entirely devot- 
ed to the Soofie Doctor. He attended his calean with 
the utmost humility. On oberving the pensive coun- 
tenance of the young man, and knowing something of 
his history from Seid Ali, how he had left all to find 
happiness in the contemplation of God, I longed to make 
known the glad tidings of a Saviour, and thanked God, 
on coming away, that I was not left ignorant of the gos- 
pel. I could not help being a little pleasant on Seid 
Ali, afterwards, for his admiration of this silent instuct- 
or. ' There you sit,' said I, ' immersed in thought, 
full of anxiety and care, and will not take the trouble 
to ask whether God has said any thing or not. No : 
that is too easy and direct a way of coming at the truth. 
I compare you to spiders, who weave their house of 
defence out of their own bowels, or to a set of people 
who are groping for a light in broad day.' " 

Mr. Martyn's mathematical acquirements were to 
him invaluable, inasmuch as they gave him that habit 
of patience and persevering study, which was sanc- 
tified in the application of his powers to the highest 
ends and purposes. There were also occasions in 
which this and other sciences were of service to the 
cause he had at heart, by procuring for him that atten- 
tion and respect, which learning ever secures in coun- 
tries where the light of civilization shines, even though 
but faintly and imperfectly. Of this we have an in* 
•tance in the following account. 



298 DISCUSSIONS WITH 

"Aug. 26. — Waited this morning on Mahommed Nu- 
bee Khan, late ambassador at Calcutta, and now prime 
minister of Fars. There were a vast number of clients 
in his court, with whom he transacted business while 
chatting with us. Amongst the others who came and 
sat with us, was my tetric adversary — Aga Acber, who 
came for the very purpose of presenting the minister 
with a little book he had written in answer to mine. 
After presenting it in due form, he sat down, and told 
me he meant to bring me a copy that day — a promise 
which he did not perform, through Seid All's persua- 
sion, who told him it was a performance that would 
do him no credit. Aga Acber gave me a hint re- 
specting its contents, namely, that there were four 
answers -to my objections to Mahometans using the 
sword, i * it. I 

f^^ *' He then, without any ceremony, began to question 
me, before the company, (there were more than fifty in 
the hall, and crowds in front, all listening) about the 
European philosophy; and brought objections against 
the world's motion, with as much spleen as if he had 
an estate which he was afraid would run away from 
him. As it was a visit of mere ceremony, I was not 
a little surprised, and looked at the minister, to know 
if it would not be a breach of good manners to dispute 
at such a time ; but it seemed there was nothing contrary 
to custom, as he rather expected my answer. I explained 
our sytem to Aga Acber but there were many things not 
to be understood without diagrams ; so a scribe in 
waiting was ordered to produce his implements, and I 
was obliged to shew him, first, the sections of the 
cone, and how a body revolves in an ellipses round 
the sun in one focus, &c. He knew nothing of mathe- 
matics, as I suspected, so it was soon found useless 
to proceed ; — he comprehend nothing. 

" On my return, Jaffier Ali Khan and Mirza Seid Ali 
requested me to explain to them my proofs. I did my 
best ; but there were so mauy,things they were obliged^ 



THE SOOFIES, ETC. 299 

to take for granted, that all my endeavours were to 
little purpose. So much Mirza Seid All comprehended, 
that the hypothesis of a force varying inversely as the 
square of the distance, was sufficient to account for 
every phenomenon ; and that therefore according to the 
rules of philosophy, a more complex hypothesis was 
not to be admitted. This he had sense enough to see." 

There is something so estimable in the character of 
Mr. Martyn's opponent, Mirza Ibraheem, that it will 
not fail to secure the attention of the reader, in perus- 
ing the subjoined relation of the effect produced on 
his mind by Mr. Martyn's defence of Christianity and 
attack upon Mahometanism. 

" Aug. 29. — Mirza Ibraheem begins to enquire 
about the gospel. The objections he made were such 
as these : How sins could be atoned for before they 
were committed 1 Whether, as Jesus died for all men, 
all would necessarily be saved ? If faith be the con- 
dition of salvation, would wicked Christians be saved, 
provided they believe ? I was pleased to see, from 
the nature of the objections, that he was considering 
the subject. To this last objection, I remarked, that 
to those who felt themselves sinners, and came to God 
for mercy, through Christ, God would give his Holy 
Spirit, which would progressively sanctify them in 
heart and life. 

" Aug. 30. — Mirza Ibraheem praises my answer, 
especially the first part." 

Mr. Martyn's mind, we have had frequent occasion 
to notice, closed as it was against trifling vanities, was 
ever open and alive to many of those subjects which 
arrest the attention, and interest the curiosity of men 
of science and research, and which form one great 
source of intellectual gratification. Whilst the moral 
depravity of Shiraz chiefly occupied his thoughts and 
excited his commiseration, he could also find a mourn- 
ful pleasure in musing over the fallen grandeur of 
Persepolis. 



800 VISITS THE RUINS 

He has left the following observations and reflec- 
tions, on visiting these celebrated remains of anti- 
quity. 

" I procured two horsemen, as guards, from the 
minister, and set off about two hours before sun set. 
At a station of Rahdars we fed the horses, and then 
continued our course, through a most dismal country, 
till midnight, when we entered a vast plain, and two 
or three hours before day crossed the Araxes, by a 
bridge of three arches, and coming in sight of the 
ruiris, waited for the day. I laid down upon the bare 
ground, but it was too cold to sleep. 

" When the sun rose, we entered. My guards and 
servant had not the smallest curiosity to see the ruins, 
and therefore the moment they mounted the terrace 
they laid down and fell asleep. These people cannot 
imagine why the Europeans come to see these ruins. 
One of them said to me, ' A nice place, Sahib ; good 
air and a fine garden ; you may carry brandy, and drink 
there at leisure.' Thus he united, as he thought, the 
two ingredients of human happiness — the European 
enjoyment of drinking, and the Persian one of straight 
walks, cyprus-trees, and muddy water in a square 
cistern. One of my guards was continually remind- 
ing me, on my way thither, that it was uninhabited. 
Finding me still persist, he imagined that my object 
must be to do something in Secret ; and accordingly, 
after I had satisfied my curiosity and was coming 
away, he plainly asked me whether I had been drink- 
ing ; — observing, perhaps, my eyes, which were red 
with cold and want of sleep. When I gravely told 
them that drunkenness was as great a sin with us as 
with them, they altered their tone, and said that wine 
was not only unlawful, but odious and filthy. 

" After traversing these celebrated ruins, I must say, 
that I felt a little disappointed ; they did not at all 
answer my expectation. The architecture of the an- 
cient Persians seems to be much more akin to that of 



OF PERSfiPOLlS^ Bdt 

their clumsy neighbours the Indians, than to that of 
the Greeks. I saw no appearance of grand design 
any where. The chapiters of the columns were aU 
most as long as the shafts — though they are not so 
represented in Niebuhr's plate : — and the mean little 
passages into the square court, or room, or whatever it 
was, make it very evident that the taste of the Orient- 
als was the same three thousand years ago as it is 
now. 

" But it was impossible not to recollect that here 
Alexander and his Greeks passed and repassed ; — here 
they sat, and sung, and revelled : now all is silence ;— 
generation on generation lie mingled with the dust 
of their mouldering edifices : — 

*' Alike the busy and the gay, 

But flutter in life's busy day, 

In fortune's varying colours drest." 

" From the ruins I rode off to a neighbouring vil* 
lage, the head-man of which, at the minister's order, 
paid me every attention. At sun-set, we set out on 
our return, and lost our way. As I particularly re» 
marked where we entered the plains, I pointed out the 
track, which afterwards proved to be right; but my 
opinion was overruled, and we galloped further and 
further away. Meeting at last, with some villagers, 
who were passing the night at their threshing-floor in 
the field, we were set right. They then conceived so 
high an idea of my geographical skill, that as soon 
as we crossed the Araxes, they begged me to point 
out the Keblah to them, as they wanted to pray. Af- 
ter setting their faces towards Mecca, as nearly as I 
could, I went and set down on the margin near the 
bridge, where the water falling over some fragments 
of the bridge under the arches, produced a roar, 
which, contrasted with the stillness all around had 
a grand effect. Here I thought again of the mul- 
titudes who had once pursued their labours and 
their pleasures on its banks. Twenty-one centu- 
2 C 



303 VISITS THR RtTINS 

ries have passed away since they lived : how short, 
in comparison, must be the remainder of my days. — 
What a momentary duration is the life of man ! Labi- 
tur et lahetur in omne volubills aevum, may be affirmed 
of the river ; but men pass away as soon as they be- 
gin to exist. Well, let the moments pass — 

' They'll waft us sooner o'er 
_ This life's tempestuous sea 

And land us on the peaceful shore 
Of blest Eternity.' 

" The Mahometans having" finished their prayers, I 
mounted my horse, and pursued my way over the plain. 
We arrived at the station of the Rahdars so early, that 
we should have been at Shiraz before the gates were 
opened, so we halted. I put my head into a poor 
corner of the caravansera, and slept soundly upon the 
hard stone, till the rising sun bid us continue our 
course. 

" One of my guards was a pensive, romantic sort of 
a man, as far as eastern men can be romantic ; that is, 
he is constantly reciting love verses. He often broke 
a long silence by a sudden question of this sort : 'Sir, 
what is the chief good of life]' I replied,' The love of 
God :' ' What next V ' The love of man.' ' That is,' 
said he, ' to have men love us, or to love them V 'To 
love them.' He did not seem to agree with me. — 
Another time he asked, ' Who were the worst people 
in the world V I said, ' Those who know their duty, 
and do not practise it.' At the house where I was en- 
tertained, they asked me the question which the Lord 
once asked, 'What think ye of Christ]' I generally 
tell them at first, what they expect to hear, ' The Son 
of God; but this time I said, ' The same as you say — 
the word of God.' ' Was he a Prophet V ' Yes, in 
some sense, he was a Prophet ; but, what it chiefly 
concerns us to know — he was an atonement for the 
sins of men.' Not understanding this, they made no 
reply. They next asked, ' what did I think of the 



THE FAST OF RAMAZAN. 303 

soul ] was it out of the body or in the body V I sup- 
pose the latter. ' No,' they said, ' it was neither the 
one nor the other ; but next to it, and the mover of the 
body.'" 

The details Mr. Martyn gives of the fast of Ra- 
mazan, which he witnessed on his return to Shiraz, 
whilst they shew that he was far from being an inob- 
servant spectator of what was passing around him, 
afford a striking view of the interior of Mahometan- 
ism. We plainly discover from them that a love for 
particular popular preachers — a fiery zeal in religion — 
a vehement excitation of the animal feelings, as well 
as rigid austerities — are false criterions of genuine 
piety ; for we see all these in their full perfection 
amongst the real followers of the crescent, as well as 
amongst the pretended disciples of the Cross. 

" Sept. 20.-"First day of the fast of Ramazan.-— 
All the family had been up in the night, to take an 
unseasonable meal, in order to fortify themselves for 
the abstinence of the day. It was curious to observe 
the effects of the fast in the house. The master was 
scolding and beating his servants ; they equally pee- 
vish and insolent ; and the beggars more than ordina- 
rily importunate and clamourous. At noon, all the 
city went to the grand Mosque. My host cara^ back 
with an account of new vexations there. He was 
chatting with a friend, near the door, when a great 
preacher, Hagi Mirza, arrived with hundreds of fol- 
lowers. ' Why do you not say your prayers V said 
the new comers to the two friends. ' We have finish- 
ed,' said they. 'Well,' said the other, 'if you 
cannot pray a second time with us, you had better 
move out of the way. Rather than join such turbu- 
lent zealots, they retired. The reason of this uncere- 
monious address was, that these loving disciples had 
a desire to pray all in a row with their master, which, 
it seems, is the custom. There is no public service 
in the Mosque ; every man there prays for himself. 



904 « THB FAIT 

" Coming out of the Mosque, some servants of the 
prince, for their amusement, pushed a person against a 
poor man's stall, on which were some things for sale, a 
few European and Indian articles, also some valuable 
Warsaw plates, which were thrown down and broken. 
The servants went off without making compensation. 
No cazi will hear a complaint against the prince's 
servants. 

"Hagi Mahommed Hasan preaches every day dur- 
ing the Ramazan. He takes a verse from the Koran, 
or more frequently tells stories about the Im^ns. If 
the ritual of the Christian churches, their good forms, 
and every thing they have, is a mere shadow, without 
the power of truth, what must all this Mahometan 
stuff be ? and yet how impossible is it to convince the 
people of the world, whether Christian or Mahometan, 
that what they call religion, is merely a thing of their 
own, having no connection with God and his kingdom. 
This subject has been much on my mind of late. How 
senseless the zeal of the churchmen against dissent- 
ers, and of dissenters against the church ! The king- 
dom of God is neither meat nor drink, nor any thing 
perishable ; but righteousness, and peace, and joy in 
the Holy Ghost. 

" Mirza Ibraheem never goes to the Mosque ; but 
he is so much respected, that nothing is said : they 
conclude that he is employed in devotion at home. 
Some of his disciples said to Seid Ali, before him, 
* Now the Ramazen is come, you shojild read the Ko- 
ran and leave the gospel.' 'No,' said his uncle, 'he 
is employed in a good work ; let him go on with it.' 
The old man continues to enquire with interest about 
the gospe], and is impatient for his nephew to explain 
the evidences of Christianity, which I have drawn 
iip." 

" Sept. 22. — Sunday. — My friends returned from the 
Mosque, full of indignation at what they had witness- 
ed there. The former governor of Bushire complained 



OF KAI\IAZAN. 305 

to the vizier, in the Mosque, that some of his servants 
had treated him brutally. The vizier, instead of at- 
tending to his complaint, ordered them to do their 
work a second time; which they did, kicking- and 
beating him with their slippers, in the most ignomini- 
ous way, before all the Mosque. This unhappy peo- 
ple groan under the tyranny of their governors ; yet 
nothing subdues or tames them. Happy Europe ! 
how has God favoured the sons of Japheth, by caus- 
ing them to embrace the gospel. How dignified are 
all the nations of Europe compared with this nation! 
Yet the people are clever and intelligent, and more 
calculated to become great and powerful than any of 
the nations of the east, had they a good government, 
and the Christian religion." 

"Sept. 29— The Soofie, son of the Mojtuhid, with 
some others, came to see me. For fifteen years he 
was a devout Mahometan ; visited the sacred places, 
and said many prayers. Finding no benefit from aus- 
terities, he threw up Mahometanism altogether, and 
attached himself to the Soofie master. 

" I asked him, what his object was, all that time 1 
He said, ' he did not know, but he was unhappy.' I 
began to explain to him the gospel ; but he cavilled at 
it as much as any bigoted Mahometan could do, and 
would not hear of there being any distinction between 
creator and creature. In the midst of our conversation, 
the sun went down, and the company vanished, for the 
purpose of taking an immediate repast. 

" Aga Baba was also for many years a zealous Ma- 
hometan, often passing whole nights in prayer. His 
father, who had at first encouraged his religious pro- 
pensities, found them at last so troublesome, that he 
was obliged to leave the house, not being able to get 
sleep for the noise his son made in prayer. • Finding, 
after many years, that he was growing more and more 
proud and contemptuous, he could ascribe it to nothing 
2 c 2 



306 THE FAST 

but his prayers, and therefore, from purely conscientious 
motives, left them off. 

*' JafRer Ali Khan was also once a great sayer of 
prayers, and regularly passed every afternoon, for 
fourteen years, in cursing the worshippers of Omar, 
according to the prescribed form ; but perceiving that 
these zealous maledictions brought no blessing to him- 
self, he left them off, and now just prays for form's 
sake. His wife says her prayers regularly five times 
a day, and is always up before sun-rise for the first 
prayer. 

*' Mirza Seid Ali seems sometimes coming round to 
Christianity against Soofeism. The Soofies believe 
in no prophet, and do not consider Moses to be equal 
to Mirza Abulcasim. 'Could they be brought,' Seid- 
Ali says, 'to believe that there has been a prophet, 
they would embrace Christianity.' And what would 
be gained by such converts 1 ' Thy people shall be 
willing in the day of thy power.' It will be ' an af- 
flicted and poor people,' that shall call upon the name 
of the Lord, and such the Soofies are not : professing 
themselves to be wise, they have become fools. 

*' Oct. 1. — Thousands every day assemble at the 
Mosque ; it is quite a lounge with them. Each, as 
soon as he has said his prayers, sits down and talks 
to his friend. The multitude press to hear Hagi Ma- 
hommed Hasan. One day they thronged him so much 
that he made some error in his prostrations. This put 
him into such a passion, that he wished that Omar's 
curse might come upon him if he preached to them 
again. However, a day or two after, he thought bet- 
ter of it. This preacher is famous far letting out his 
money for interest; and therefore, in spite of his elo- 
quence, he is not very popular. About two years ago, 
Shekh Jaffier came here and preached — ' The Persians 
are all murderers ! adulterers !' * What does the Shekh 
mean V said his followers. ♦ Why,' said he, * the 



OF KAMA2AN. S07 

Persians take usury ; and he that does that, is worse 
than a murderer or adulterer.' 

'* Oct. 7. — I was surprised by a visit from the great 
Soofie doctor, who, while most of the people were 
asleep, came to me for some wine. I plied him with 
questions innumerable ; but he returned nothing but 
incoherent answers, and sometimes no answer at all. 
Having laid aside his turban, he put on his night-cap, 
and soon fell asleep upon the carpet. Whilst he lay 
there, liis disciples came, but would not believe, when 
I told them who was there, till they came and saw 
the sage asleep. When he awoke, they came in, and 
seated themselves at the greatest possible distance, and 
were all as still as if in a church. 

" The real state of this man seems to be despair, 
and it is well if it do not end jn madness. I preach- 
ed to him the kingdom of God : mentioning particular- 
ly how I had found peace from the Son of God and the 
Spirit of God : through the first, forgiveness ; through 
the second, sanctification. He said it was good, but 
said it with the same unconcern with which he admits 
all manner of things, however contradictory. Poor 
soul ! he is sadly bewildered. 

" At a garden called Shah Chiragh, in which is the 
tomb of the brother of one of the Imans, who was kill- 
ed on the spot, a miracle is wrought every Ramazan. 
The Mootuwulli, or proprietor of the garden, in whose 
family it has been for ages, finds its supposed sanctity 
abundantly profitable, as he is said to make two thousand 
pounds a-year of it. To keep alive the zeal of the 
people, who make their oflferings there every day, he 
procures a villager, who is at first sick, and crying to 
All for help ; and then, on the appointed day, re- 
covers. This year a man was recovered of the palsy, 
and our servants came in quite full of it. Though 
this farce is played off every year, the simpletons are 
never undeceived. Presents of sheep, fowls, sweet- 
meats, money, flowed in upon the Mootuwulli, who 



308 DISCUSSIONS WITH 

skilfully turned all to the best advantage. Those who 
wished to see the man's face, were to pay so much ; 
those who were anxious to touch him, were to pay so 
much more ; und so on. 

" On two days in the Ramazan, tragedies were acted 
at our house, in the women's court. Two or three 
men, dressed in the Khan's court-robes, spouted and 
sung for an hour, before an immense concourse of 
women, all veiled. The subject on the first day was 
the death of Mahomet; on the second, that of Iman 
Hosyn. 

Oct. 18. — " The Ramazan ended, or ought to have 
ended, but the moon disappointed them. The Mool- 
lahs not having seen the new moon, would not allow 
the fast to be over, and the people were in conse- 
quence, all in confusion ; for not having eaten in the 
night, they were not at all disposed to go through the 
day fasting. At last some witnesses appeared, who 
vowed that they had seen the silver bow. These were 
from the prince ; but the Moollahs refused to admit 
them till seventy-two of the same kind bore the same 
testimony. This was no great number for a prince to 
produce ; so the seventy-two appeared, and the feast 
was proclaimed." 

Towards the end of November, great progress hav- 
ing been made in the Persian translation of the New 
Testament, Mr. Martyn ordered two splendid copies of 
it to be prepared, designing to present the one to the 
king of Persia, and the other to tlia prince Abbas 
Mirza, his son. It being now also his fixed intention 
to pass the winter at Shiraz, he resolved to commence 
another eminently useful, and, to him, most delightful, 
Work — a version of the Psalms of David, into Persian, 
from the original Hebrew. The divine Songs of Sion 
became thus the subject of his critical examination, 
close meditation, and frequent prayer ; and whilst en- 
gacred in this sacred employment, often did he find his 



THE 600F1ES. 909 

»oul elevated, and his spirit refreshed in a '* strange 
land." 

The events of the last month of the year stand thus 
recorded in his Journal. 

'' Dec. 3. — Attended the lecture of Aga Mahommed 
Hasan. He read and commented on three books of 
metaphysics, and at intervals conversed with me. 
Amongst other things we discussed the cause of the 
ascent of a light body in a fluid. Our argument came 
at last to this — that if one particle of fluid were on 
another, it would, from its gravity, move ever hori- 
zontally off, in order to be nearer the centre. ' If,' 
said he, ' a body can move towards the centre only 
directly, how do you account for its falling down an 
inclined plane V I began to explain the composition 
and resolution of forces ; but some disciples coming, 
he could not stay to hear what I had to say, but went 
on with his lecture. At one time he asked me some 
questions about genera and species. 

** Dec. 6. — Aga Boozong and his disciple, Aga Ali, 
a Mede, came and sat many hours. The former, from 
love to the gospel, as he said, had desired a friend at 
Isfahan to send him Luke's Gospel, translated from 
the Arabic. He asked me about the Trinity, and said 
that, ' for himself, he had no objection to the doctrine.' 
So say all the Soofies, but they will only concede to 
Jesus a nature which they conceive to belong to all 
the prophets, and all the illuminated. He stated his 
sentiments ; I asked for reasons, but asked in vain. 
'Proofs,' he said, 'were cobwebs — a breath destroy- 
ed them : nothing but a divine teacher could make 
known the mystery.' Aga Ali, in order to prove to 
me that proofs were nothing, adduced the instance of 
Matthew tiie publican, who rose at the call of Christ, 
without seeing a miracle. They are fond of producing 
what they know of the gospel, in confirmation of their 
mystic themes. The atonement they would not hear 
of, because the Mahometans pretended, in the same 



310 OCCURRENCES 

way, that Hosyn was sacrificed for the sins of men. 
Thus Satan has contrived Mahometahism with more 
craft than at first appears ; for the impostor of Mecca, 
by making common cause with the prophets of God, 
has taken care, that if any forsake him, they shall at 
the same time forsake the messengers of God ; of 
whom they know nothing but just what he tells 
them — which is far enough from the truth. 

" Dec. 8, — The Soofies breakfasted with me. Aga 
Boozong talked d ogmatically about the unity of all being, 
and quoted large portions from the munari of Mouluwee 
Room. Another part of the conversation was about 
India. The Soofies consider all the Brahmins as 
philosophers of the same school with themselves. One 
of them asked me gravely, ' whether I had met with 
any in whom was the Holy Ghost ?' This he suppos- 
ed was the only way of expressing what they meant by 
being enlightened. 

" Dec. 12. — Letters, at last, from India. Mirza 
Seid Ali was curious to know what way we corres- 
ponded, and made me read Mr. Brown's letter to me, 
and mine to Corrie. He took care to let his friends 
know that we wrote nothing about our own affairs : it 
was all about translations, and the cause of Christ : with 
this he was delighted. 

"Dec. 16.— In translating 2 Cor. i. 22, 'Who hath 
given the earnest of the spirit in our hearts,* he was 
much struck when it was explained to him. ' O that 
I had it ,' said he; 'have yon received it 1 I told him 
that I had no doubt of my acceptancerirhrough Christ, 
I concluded that I had. Once before on the words, 
^ Who are saved, 'he expressed his surprise at the con- 
fidence with which Christians spoke of salvation. On 
1 Cor. xi. he observed, that the doctrine of the resur- 
rection of the body was unreasonable ; but that as the 
Mahometans understood it, it was impossible-; on 
which account the Soofies rejected it. 

>'£Jhristma.s-day. — I made a great feast for the Ru9* 



AT SHIRAZ. 311 

sians and Armenians ; and at Jaffier Ali Khan's re- 
quest, invited the Soofie Master, with his disciples. I 
hoped there would he some conversation on the occa- 
sion of our meeting", and indeed Mirza Seid Ali did make 
some attempts, and explained to the old man the mean- 
ing of the Lord's Supper ; hut the sage maintaining 
his usual silence, the subject was dropped. 

" I expressed my satisfaction at seeing them assem- 
bled on such an occasion, and my hope that they would 
remember the day in succeeding years ; and that, 
though they would never see me again in the succeed- 
ing years, they would not ^forget that I had brought 
them the gospel. The old man coldly replied, th^t 
' God would guide those whom he chose.' Most of 
the time they continued was before dinner ; the mo- 
ment that was dispatched, they rose up and went away. 
The custom is, to sit five or six hours before dinner, 
and at great men's houses singers attend. 

" 27. — Carapet invited me this evening to his wed- 
ding; but just before the guests were to have assem- 
bled, the Darogha's servants seized his father-in-law, 
and carried him away to be bastinadoed, or else to pay 
five hundred piastres. It seems he had given a bond 
to that amount, never to sell wine to Mahometans; and 
yesterday he was detected in the act. Jaffier Ali Khan 
wrote, in my name, to the Vizier, to request his re- 
lease. The Vizier replied, that Carapet, for my sake, 
should not be molested ; but that the other man had 
forfeited his money, and, in evidence, sent his bond. 
Finding that it was not a piece of villainy on the part of 
the government, as I had apprehended, I declined hav- 
ing anything to do in the business ; the law might take 
its course. But Jaffier Ali Khan begged as a favour, 
of the servant of the Vizier, who had formerly been a ser- 
vant of his, to represent the matter in such a light to 
his master as to excite his compassion. After he was 
gone away, the Armenians came in great numbers and 
begged I would procure the pardon of the poor man; and 



319 EXTRACTS PROM 

had obtained a promise from me to this eflfect ; when 
the servant came back with the poor Greek, and said 
that the Vizier had released him and forgiven him the 
forfeit for my sake. The Armenians were in ecstasies 
of joy, and did not know how enough to express their 
gratitude to me, though it was rather due to Jafher Ali 
Khan. I was unable to attend the wedding, from a 
cough, which made it unsafe to be out at niglit. They 
sat up all night, according to the Armenian custom, eat- 
ing and drinking, and about two hours before day, 
went to church, where the marriage was solemnized ; 
the feasting continues two days longer. *^ 

** On the strength of the narrow escape the Geek had 
experienced, some of the Vizier's servants came, the 
day after, to feast themselves at his expense. They 
first called for a calean, which was brought to them j 
then for the wine he hid promised them, though he 
had promised none. This unfortunate people have 
been visited almost like the Jews. When will the 
Lord pity them ! An Armenian, if he gets a new coat, 
makes the sleeves of patches, as he will be sure to 
have it taken from him if it looks new, Carapet 
was insulted, for being a little better dressed than they 
thought a Christian ought to be." 

'' Dec. 31.— The accounts of the desolations of w^ar 
during the last year, which I have been reading in 
some Indian newspapers, make the world appear more 
gloomy than ever. How many souls hurried into 
eternity unprepared. How many thousands of widows 
and orphans left to mourn ! But admire, my soul, the 
matchless power of God, that out of this ruin he has 
prepared for himself an inheritance. At last the scene 
shall change, and I shall find myself in a world 
where all is love." 

The early part of the year 1812, that year in which 
Mr. Martyn " rested from his labours," and " found 
himself in a world where all was love," was ushered 



HIS JOURNAL. 313 

in by him in the following strain of singular pathos 
and piety : 

*' The last has been in some respects, a memorable 
year. I have been led, by what I have reason to con- 
sider as the particular providence of God, to this 
place, and have undertaken an important work, which 
has gone on without material interruption, and is now 
nearly finished. I like to find myself employed use- 
fully, in a way I did not expect or foresee, especially 
if my own will is in any degree crossed by the work 
unexpectedly assigned me ; as there is then reasons to 
believe that God is acting. The present year will 
probably be a perilous one ; but my life is of little 
consequence, whether I live to finish the Persian New 
Testament, or do not. I look back with pity and 
shame upon my former self, and on the importance I 
then attached to my life and labours. The more I see 
of my own works, the more I am [ashamed of them. 
Coarseness and clumsiness mar all works of man. I 
am sick, when I look at man, and his wisdom, and his 
doings ; and am relieved only by reflecting, that we 
have a city w^hose builder and maker is God. ^> The 
least of His works it is refreshing to look at. A dried 
leaf, or a straw, makes me feel myself in good com- 
pany : complacency and admiration take place of dis- 
gust. 

" I compared, with pain, our Persian translation 
with the original ; to say nothing of the precision and 
elegance of the' sacred text, its perspicuity is that 
which sets at defiance all attempts to equal it." 
. In the succeeding portion of Mr. Martyn's Journal, 
we are presented with a statement, from which it is 
scarcely possible not to infer that the civil government 
of Persia is in a condition of extreme weakness and 
wretchedness. 

"Jan. 15. — I went with Jafider Ali Khan, to see the 
College. It is almost in ruins, not having been repaired 
these two hundred years. It contains sixty or seventy 
2 D 



314 Various 

sets of rooms, in many of which we observed teachers 
and scholars giving and hearing lectures. It was 
formerly richly endowed ; but the rapacity of the 
kings has stripped it of every thing ; only a small 
stipend is now allowed to the principal teachers. Near 
it is an octagonal caravansera, where goods were 
formerly exposed to sale, a tax levied, which was ap- ^ 
propriated to the College; but this is nearly gone. 
The best way of laying out money at this time is to 
build a caravansera, for merchants to lodge their goods 
in, and expose them to sale. In this way they make 
about fifteen per cent. ; but these warehouses are 
heavily taxed by government. 

" We called on several people ; among the rest, on 
Mirza Abulcasim Kalantar, a man of large landed 
property, who was very courteous. Conversation, as 
usual, about the happiness of India and England. 

" We called on Aga Boozong, an old man of 
ninety, whose house, or rather college, is a kind of 
asylum ; for he is so venerated, that even the Vizier 
dare not drag an offender thence. A poor ragged 
fellow came while we were there, and said that the 
Vizier had sent him.' Go and tell the Vizier,' said he, 
' to knock his head against the pavement, and not send 
such messengers to me.' 

" A poor blind man whom we met begging, the 
Khan pointed out to me, as one who formerly was a 
general, and one of Kureen Khan's family ; but, by a 
change of dynasty, had lost his eyes. Nobody took 
any notice of him." TT » 

Who can read some of the ensuing remarks without 
discovering how abundantly those words of our Saviour 
were verified in Mr. Martyn — '' neither pray I for these 
alpne, but for them also which shall believe on me 
through their word : That they all may be one, as 
thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also 
may be one in us, that the world may believe that 
thou hast sent me." John xvii. 20, 21. 



CONVISI'.SATIONS. 315 

** Jan. 16. — Mirza Seid Ali told me accidentally, 
to-day, of a distich made by his friend Mirza Koochut, 
at Teheran, in honour of a victory obtained by prince 
Abbas Mirza over the Russians. The sentiment was, 
that he had killed so many of the Christians, that 
Christ, from the fourth heaven, took hold of Ma- 
homet's skirt to entreat him to desist. I was cut to 
the soul at this blasphemy. In prayer I could think of 
nothing else but that great day when the Son of God 
shall come in the clouds of heaven, taking vengeance 
on them that know not God and convincing men of all 
their hard speeches which they have spoken against 
him. 

*' Mirza Seid Ali perceived that I was considerably 
disordered, and was sorry for having repeated the 
verse ; but asked what it was that was so offensive ? 
I told him that ' I could not endure existence if Jesus 
was not glorified ; — it would be hell to me, if he were 
to be always thus dishonoured.' He was astonished, 
and again asked, why? 'If any one pluck out your 
eyes,' I replied, ' there is no saying why you feel pain; 
— it is feeling. It is because I am one with Christ 
that I am thus dreadfully wounded.' On his again 
apologising, I told him that 'I rejoiced at what had 
happened, inasmuch as it made me feel nearer the Lord 
than ever. It is when the head or heart is struck, that 
every member feels its membership.' This conversation 
took place while we were translating. In the evening, 
he mentioned the circumstance of a young man's being 
murdered — a fine athletic youth, whom I had often seen 
in the garden. Some acquaintance of his, in a slight 
quarrel, had plunged a dagger in his breast. Ob- 
serving me look sorrowful, he asked why. ^ Because,' 
said I, ' ho was cut off in his sins, and had no time to 
repent.' 'It is Justin that way,' said he, 'that I 
should like to die ; not dragging out a miserable ex- 
istence on a sick bed, but transported at once into an- 
piher state, I observed that ' It was not desirable 



316 EXTRACTS rROM 

to be hurried into the immediate presence of God.' ' Do 
you think,' said he, ' that there is any difference be- 
tween the presence of God here or there V ' Indeed I 
do,' said I. ' Here we see through a glass, darkly ; 
but there face to face.' He then entered into some 
metaphysical Soofie disputation about the identity of 
sin and holiness, heaven and hell ; to all which I 
made no reply." 

The subjoined conversation, into which Mr. Marty n 
was led, exhibits the ignorance of the natural man, 
and the knowledge of the spiritual man, in striking 
contrast. 

" Jan. 18. — Aga Ali, of Media, came, and with him 
and Mirza Ali I had a long and warm discussion about 
the essentials of Christianity. The Mede seeing us 
at work upon the epistles, said, ' he should be glad to 
read them ; as for the gospels, they were nothing but 
tales, which were of no use to him ; for instance,' 
said he, 'if Christ raised four hundred dead to life, 
what is that to^ me V I said, ' It certainly was of 
importance, for his works were a reason for our de- 
pending upon his words.' ' What did he say,' asked 
he, ' that was not known before : the love of God, 
humility — who does not know these things V ' Were 
these things,' said I, * known before Christ, either 
among Greeks or Romans, with all their philosophy V 
They averred that the Hindoo book Juh contained pre- 
cepts of this kind. I questioned its antiquity ; ' but 
however that may be,' I added, ' Christ came not to 
teach, so much as to die ,• the truths I spoke of, as 
confirmed by his miracles, were those relating to his 
person, such as, ' Come unto me, all ye that labour and 
are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.' Here 
Mirza Seid Ali told him that I had professed to have 
no doubt of my salvation. He asked what I meant? 
I told him ' that though sin still remained, I was as- 
sured that it should not regain dominion ; and that I 
should never come into condemnation, but was accept* 



HIS JOURNAL 317 

ed in the beloved.' Not a little surprised, he asked 
Mirza Seid Ali whether he comprehended this 1 ' No,' 
said he, ' nor Mirza Ibraheem, to whom I mentioned 
it.' The Mede again turning to me, asked, ' how do 
you know this 1 how do you know you have experi- 
enced the second birth?' ' Because,' said I, 'we have 
tlie Spirit of the Father ; what he wishes, we wish ; 
what he hates, we hate.' Here he began to be a little 
more calm and less contentious, and mildly asked how 
I had obtained this peace of mind ; ' Was it merely 
those books,' said he, taking up some of our sheets. 
I told him ' These books, with prayer.' ' What was 
the beginning of it' — said he, ' the society of some 
friends V I related to him my religious history, the 
substance of which was, that I took my bible before 
God, in prayer, and prayed for forgiveness through 
Christ, assurance of it through his Spirit, and grace 
to obey his commands. They then both asked whether 
the same benefit would be conferred on them ? ' Yes,' 
said I, ' for so the A^postles preached, that all who 
were baptized in his name should receive the gift of 
the Holy Ghost.' 'Can you assure me,' said Mirza 
Seid Ali, ' that the Spirit will be given to me ; if so, 
I will be baptised immediately.' 'Who am I, that I 
should be surety' — I replied ; — ' I bring you this mes- 
sage from God, that he who, despairing of himself, 
rests for righteousness on the Son of God, shall re- 
ceive the gift of the Holy Ghost; and to this I can 
add my testimony, if that be worth any thing, that I 
have found the promise fulfilled in myself. But if, 
after baptism, you should not find it so in you, ac- 
cuse not the gospel of falsehood ; — it is possible that 
your faith might not be sincere ; indeed, so fully am I 
persuaded that you do not believe on the Son of God, 
that if you were to entreat ever so earnestly for bap- 
tism, I should not dare to administer it at this time, 
when you have shewn so many signs of an unhumbled 
heart.' ' What ! would you have me believe,' said he, 
2 D 2 



318 KXTRACTS FROM 

* as a child V ' Yes,' said I. ' True,' said he, * I 
think that is the only way.' Aga Ali saidno more 
but ' Certainly he is a good man !' " 

Shortly after this discussion, Mr. Martyn states 
himself to have attended a public exhibition of a re- 
ligious kind. The reason why he did not repeat his 
attendance, whether well-grounded or not, is at least 
a proof that patriotic feelings in his mind were not ex- 
tinguished by Christianity. 

" Jan. 23,- — Put on my English dress, and went to 
the Vizier's to see part of the tragedy of Hosyn's 
death, which they contrive to spin out so as to make 
it last the first ten days of the Mohurrin. All the ap- 
paratus consisted of a few boards for a stage, two 
tables, and a pulpit, under an immense awning, in 
the court where the company were assembled. The 
dramtis personx were two ; the daughter of Hosyn, 
whose part was performed by a boy, and a messenger; 
they both read their parts. Every now and then loud 
sobs were heard all over the court. After this, seve- 
ral feats of activity were exhibited before the altar, 
where the Vizier sat with the Moollahs. I was ap- 
pointed to a seat, where, indeed, I saw as much as I 
wanted, but which, I afterwards perceived, was not 
the place of honour. As I trust I am far enough 
from desiring the chief seats in the synagogues, there 
was nothing in this that could offend me ; but I do 
not think it right to let him have another opportunity 
of shewing a slight to my country in my person." 

Those who know not what it is to pass a dreary 
season of long seclusion from Christian society, sur- 
rounded by those who are immersed in all wickedness^ 
can form but an inadequate idea of the sacrifices to 
which Mr. Martyn submitted, in continuing so great a 
length of time at Shiraz ; yet we may in some mea- 
sure see what he endured, from the expression of sen- 
timents such as these : — 

** Feb. 3. — From what I suffer in this city, I can 



HIS JOURNAL. 319 

understand the feelings of Lot. The face of the poor 
Russian appears to me like the face of an angel, be- 
cause he does not tell lies. Heaven will be heaven, 
because there will not be one liar there. The word of 
God is more precious to me at this time than 1 ever 
remember it to have been ; and of all the promises in 
it, none is more sweet to me than this — ' He shall 
reign till he hath put all enemies under his feet.' 

" Feb. 3. — A packet arrived from India, without a 
single letter for me. It was some disappointment to 
me ; but let me be satisfied with my God, and if I 
cannot have the comfort of hearing from my friends, 
let me return with thankfulness to his word, which is 
a treasure of which none envy me the possession, and 
where I can find what will more than compensate for 
the loss of earthly enjoyments. Resignation to the 
will of God is a lesson which I must learn, and which 
I trust he is teaching me." 

What an influence a departure from the precepts of 
the gospel has upon the determination of the judgment 
with respect to its doctrines^ appears from the repre- 
sentation Mr. Martyn gives of the conduct of Mirza 
Seid Ali, at this period. 

" Feb. 4. — Mirza Seid Ali, who has been enjoying 
himself in dissipation and idleness these two days, re- 
turned full of evil and opposition to the gospel. 

*' Alluding to some remarks he had made. ' I sup- 
pose,' said he, ' you think it is sinful to sport with the 
characters of holy men.' ' I have no objection,' I re- 
plied, ' to hear your sentiments ; but I cannot bear to 
hear any thing spoken disrespectfully of the Lord Je- 
sus ; and yet there is not one of your Soofies but has 
said something against him.' ' You never heard me 
speak lightly of Jesus,' he replied. ' No, there is 
something so awfully pure about him, that nothing can 
be said.' " 

Recovering somewhat of a more serious spirit, Seid 
Ali joined with Aga Boozong, whom Mr. Martyn de- 



320 VARIOUS 

scribes as one of the most magisterial of the Soofies, 
in a conversation in which a real desire for religious 
information seems to have been indicated. The day 
on which it took place was almost entirely consumed 
in discussions with a variety of visitors, respecting 
the scriptures ; it concluded with a very pleasing con- 
fession on the part of Seid Ali. 

*'Feb. 9, — Aga Boozong came. After much con- 
versation, he said, ' Prove to me, from the beginning, 
that Christianity is the way : how will you proceed 1 
what do you say must be done V ' If you would not 
believe a person who wrought a miracle before you,' 
said I, ' I have nothing to say; I cannot proceed a 
step.' * I will grant you,' said Seid Ali, ' that Christ 
was the Son of God, and more than that.' ' That you des- 
pair of yourself, and are willing to trust in him alone for 
salvation V ^ Yes.' ' And are ready to confess Christ 
before men, and act conformably to his word ]' ' Yes : 
what else must I do T 'Be baptized in the name of 
Christ.' * And what shall I gain V ' The gift of the 
Holy Ghost, The end of faith is salvation in the 
world to come ; but even here you shall have the 
Spirit to purify your heart, and to give you the assur- 
ance of everlasting happiness.' Thus Aga Boozong 
had the opportunity qf hearing those strange things 
from my own mouth, of which he has been told by his 
disciple the Mede. ' You can say too,' said he, * that 
you have received the Spirit 1' I told them, I believed 
I had ; * for, notwithstanding all my sins, the bent of 
my heart was to God, in a w^ay it never was before ; 
and that according to my present feelings, I could not 
be happy if God was not glorified, and if 1 had not 
the enjoyment of his presence, for which I felt that I 
was now educating.' Aga Boozong shed tears. 

" A Russian officer coming in at the time, the sub- 
ject of religion was dropped, except that while speak- 
ing of the convicts of Calcutta, whom I had seen at 
the gaol, Mirza Seid Ali asked me, how I addressed 



CONVERSATIONS. 391 

them 1 I told him that I cautioned them against de- 
spair, assured them that they might come at the ele- 
venth hour,, that it was never too late for mercy, if 
they came to God through Christ. 

"After this came Aga Ali, the Mede, to hear as he 
said, some of the sentences of Paul. Mirza Seid Ali 
had told them, ' that if they had read nothing but the 
gospels, they knew nothing of the religion of Christ.' 
The sheet I happened to have by me was the one con- 
taining the fourth, fifth, and sixth chapters of the se- 
cond epistle to the Corinthians, which Aga Ali read 
out. 

" At this time the <5ompany had increased conside- 
rably. I desired Aga Ali to notice particularly the 
latter part of the fifth chapter, ' God was in Christ, 
reconciling the world unto himself.' He then read it 
a second time, but they saw not its glory ; however, 
they spoke in high terms of the pith and solidity of 
Paul's sentences. 

" They were evidently on the watch for any thing 
that tallied with their own sentiments. Upon the pas- 
sage — ' Always bearing about in the body the dying 
of the Lord Jesus,' the Mede observed, 'Do you not 
see that Jesus was in Paul, and that Paul was only 
another name for Jesus V And the text, ' Whether we 
be beside ourselves, it is to God ; and whether we be 
sober, it is for your sakes,' they interpreted thus : — 
' We are absorbed in the contemplation of God, and 
when we recover, it is to instruct you.' 

*' Walking afterwards with Mirza Seid Ali, he told 
me, how much one of my remarks had affected him, 
namely, that he had no humility. He had been talk- 
ing about simplicity and humility as characteristic of 
the Soofies. ' Humility !' I said to him, ' if you were 
humble, you would not dispute in this manner ; you 
would be like a child.' He did not open his mouth 
afterwards, but to say, ' True ; I have no humility.' 
In evident distress, he observed, ' The truth is, we are 



322 VARIOUS 

in a state of compound ignorance ; — ignorant, yet ig- 
norant of our ignorance.' " 

On the last birth-day Mr. Martyn lived to comme- 
morate, v/e find him speaking in affecting terms with 
respect to his privations as a missionary ; yet express- 
ing himself with ardent and humble gratitude, as a 
believer in the Lord Jesus Christ. 

" Feb. 8. — While walking in the garden, in some 
disorder from vexation, two Mnssulmen Jews came up, 
and asked me what would become of them in anothei' 
world ] the Mahometans were right in their way, they 
supposed, and we in ours ? but what must they expect ? 
After rectifying their mistake as to the Mahometans, I 
mentioned two or three reasons for believing that we 
are right : such as their dispersion, and the cessation 
of sacrifices, immediately on the appearance of Jesus?. 
^ True, true,' they said, with great feeling and serious-. 
ness ; indeed, they seemed disposed to yield assent to 
any thing I said. They confessed they had become 
Mahometans only on compulsion : and that Abdool- 
ghunee wished to go to Bagdad, thinking he might 
throw off the mask there with safety — but asked, what 
I thought 1 I said that the governor was a Mahometan. 
' Did I think Syria safer ]' ' The safest place in the 
east,' I said, * was India.' Feelings of pity for God's 
ancient people, and having the awful importance of 
eternal things impressed on my mind by the serious- 
ness of their inquiries as to what would become of 
them, relieved me from the pressure of my compara-. 
tively insignificant distresses. I, a poor Gentile, blest, 
honoured, and loved ; secured for ever by the everlast- 
ing covenant, whilst the children of the kingdom are 
still lying in outward darkness ! Well does it become 
me to be thankful. 

" This is my birth-day, on which I complete my 
thirty-first year. The Persian New Testament has 
been begun, and I may say, finished in it, as only the 
last eight chapters of the Revelations remain. Such ^ 



CONVERSATIONS. 333 

painful year I never passed ; owing to the privations 
I have been called to, on the one hand, and the spec- 
tacle before me of human depravity, on the other. — 
But I hope that I have not come to this seat of Satan 
in vain. The word of God has found its way into 
Persia, and it is not in Satan's power to oppose its 
progress, if the Lord hath sent it." 

The effect upon the natural conscience, of a plain 
and solemn declaration of the awful truths of scripture, 
may be seen in the case of one of Mr. Martyn's visi- 
tors, who to great libertinism of practice added ex- 
treme latitudinarianism of principle. 

'' Feb. 23.--Aga Neeser came, and talked most cap- 
tiously and irrelevantly against all revealed religion. 
Three years ago, he had thrown off the shackles of 
Mahomet, and advised me to do the same with my 
yoke. I told him, that I preferred my yoke to his 
freedom. He was for sending me naked into a wilder- 
ness ; but I would rather be a child under the restraints 
of a parent, who would provide me with food and cloth- 
ing, and be my protector, and guide. To every thing 
I said, he had but one answer. ' God is the sole 
agent ; — sin and holiness, happiness and misery, cause 
and effect, are all perfectly one.' Finding him deter- 
mined to amuse himself in this way, 1 said, ' These 
things will do very well for the present, while reclin- 
ing in gardens and smoking caleans ; but not for a dy- 
ing hour. How many years of life remain 1 You are 
about thirty, perhaps thirty more remain. How swift- 
ly have the last thirty passed : how soon will the 
next thirty be gone ; and then we shall see. If you 
are right, I lose nothing ; if I am right, you lose your 
soul. Leaving out the consideration of all religion, it 
is probable that the next world may be akin to this, 
and our relation to both not dissimilar. But here we 
see that childhood is a preparation for manhood, and 
that neglect of the proper employments of childhood en- 
tails miseries in riper years.' The thought of deaths 



324 COMPLETION or TRANSLATIONS* 

and of separation from his pleasures, made him serious ; 
or perhaps he thought it useless to press me with any 
more of his dogmas." 

On the 24th of Februrary, 1812, the last sheet of 
the Persian New Testament was completed. " I have 
many mercies," said the author of this great work, on 
bringing it to a termination, " for which to thank the 
Lord, and this is not the least. Now may that Spirit 
who gave the word, and called me, I trust, to be an in- 
terpreter of it, graciously and powerfully apply it to 
the hearts of sinners, even to the gathering an elect 
people from amongst the long-estranged Persians !" 

The version of the Psalms in Persian, " a sweet em- 
ployment," as Mr. Martyn terms it, and which, to use 
his own language, " caused six weary moons, that wax- 
ed and waned since its commencement, to pass unno- 
ticed," was finished by the middle of the month of 
March. 

Mr. Martyn had now been resident for the space of 
ten moths at Shiraz, during the whole of which time, 
he had been almost incessantly engaged, as we have 
seen, in endeavouring to reclaim the wretched race of 
infidels around him from the error of their ways. So 
far was he from shrinking from any fair opportunity of 
confessing Christ before men, that he gladly embraced 
and boldly sought out, every occasion of avowing 
*' whose he was, and whom he served." Nor was this 
conduct in him the fruit of a contentions spirit ; it was 
the genuine offspring of that heavenly^charity, which, 
" rejoicing in the truth," is ever ready " to contend 
earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints." 
No one could have a more deep-rooted antipathy to 
controversy, at all times, and with all persons, than Mr. 
Martyn : a paramount regard to what was indispensa- 
bly due to the cause of his Redeemer alone could in- 
duce him to engage in it. 

One public argument he had already held with the 
chief professor of Mahometan law ; a second disputa- 



A PUBLIC DISCUSSION. 



325 



tion, of a similar, but far more decided character, ho 
was led to enter into, at this time, with Mirza Ibra- 
heem. The scene of this discussion was a court in 
the palace of one of the Persian princes, where a nu- 
merous body of Moollahs were collected, with Mirza 
Ibraheem, at their head. In this assembly Mr. Mar- 
tyn stood up, as the sinorle advocate of the Christian 
faith. Fearing God, like Micaiah the son of Imlah, 
he feared not man. In the midst, therefore, of a Ma- 
hometan conclave, he proclaimed and maintained that 
prime and fundamental article of true religion, the di- 
vinity of the Son of God. ■ 
«' On the 23rd," Mr. Martyn writes, " I called on 
the Vizier, and afterwards on the secretary of the Ker- 
manshah prince. In the court where he received me, 
Mirza Ibraheem was lecturing. Finding myself so 
near my old and respectable antagonist, I expressed a 
wish to see him; on which Jaffier All Khan went wp 
to ascertain if my visit would be agreeable. The 
master consented, but some of the disciples demurred. 
At last, one of them observing that 'by the blessing 
of God on their master's conversation, I might possi- 
bly be converted,' it was agreed that I should be in- 
vited to ascend. Then it became a question where I 
ought to sit. Below all, would not be respectful to a 
stranger; but above all of the Moollahs, could not bo 
tolerated. I entered and was surprised at the numbers. 
The room was lined with Moollahs, on both sides, and 
at the top. I was about to sit down at the door, but I 
was beckoned to an empty place near the top, opposite 
to the master, who, after the usual compliments, with- 
out further ceremony, asked me, 'what we meant by 
calling Christ, God V War being thus unequivocally 
declar'ed, I had nothing to do but to stand upon the de- 
fensive. Mirza Ibraheem argued temperately enough, 
but of the rest, some were very violent and clamorous. 
The former asked, ' if Christ had ever called himself 
God ;— was he fhe Creator or a creature P' I replied, 
2E 



326 PREPARES TO 

* The Creator.' The Moollahs lookedat one another. 
Such a confession had never before been heard among 
these Mahometan doctors. 

" One Moollah wanted to controvert some of my il- 
lustrations, by interrogating me about the personality 
of Christ. To all his questions 1 replied by requesting 
the same information respecting his own person. 

" To another, who was rather contemptuous and 
violent, I said, ' if you do not approve of our doctrine, 
will you be so good as to say, what God is, according 
to you, that I may worship a proper object 1' One 
said, 'The author of the universe.' 'I can form no 
idea from these words,' said I, ' but of a workman at 
work upon a vast number of materials. Is that a cor- 
rect notion V Another said, ' One who came of him- 
self into being.' ' So then became,' I replied; — 'he 
came out of one place into another ; and before he 
came he was not. Is this an abstract and refined no- 
tion T After this no one asked me any more questions ; 
and for fear the dispute should be renewed, Jaffier All 
Khan carried me away." 

After making this intrepid and memorable confes- 
sion of the divinity of our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
Christ, in which he might be described as — 

'« Faithful found 
Among the faithless ; faithful only he : 
Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, 
His loyalty he kept, his zeal, his love." 

Mr. Martyn continued only a short Time at Shiraz. 
From his own hand we have this brief account of that 
interesting period which immediately preceded his de- 
parture. 

" Mirza Seid Ali never now argues against the truth, 
nor makes any remarks but of a serious kind. He 
speaks of his dislike to some of the Soofies, on account 
of their falsehood and drunken habits. This approach 
to the love of morality is the best sign of a change for 



LEAVE SIIIRAZ. 327 

the better which I have yet seen in him. As often as 
he produces the New Testament, which he always 
does when any of his friends come, his brother and 
cousin ridicule him ; but he tells them that, supposing 
no other benefit to have been derived, it is certainly 
something better to have gained all this information 
about the religion of Christians, than to have loitered 
away the year in the garden. 

" April 27. — Four Moollahs, of Mirza Ibraheem's 
school, came to dispute against European philosophy 
and European religion. 

" Mirza Seid Ali requested, at Mirza Ibraheem's 
desire, to know where we got our notions concerning 
the Holy Spirit? He, for his part, did not remember 
any passage in the New Testament which bore upon 
the subject. I referred them to the second chapter of 
the first epistle to the Corinthians. 

"May 10<. — Passed some days at JafRer Ali Khan's 
garden, with Mirza Seid Ali, Aga Baba, and Shekh 
Abulhasan, reading, at their request, the Old Testament 
histories. Their attention to the word, and their love 
and attention to me, seemed to increase as the time of 
my departure approached* 

" Aga Baba, who had been reading St. Matthew, 
related very circumstantially to the company, the par- 
ticulars of the death of Christ. The bed of roses on 
which we sat, and the notes of the nightingales warb- 
ling around us, were not so sweet to me as this dis- 
course from the Persian. 

*' Telling Mirza Seid Ali, one day, that I wished 
to return to the city in the evening, to be alone, and 
at leisure for prayer — he said with seriousness, ' though 
a man had no other religious society, 1 suppose he may, 
with the aid of the Bible, live alone with God ?' This 
solitude will, in one respect, be his own state soon ; — 
may he find it the medium of God's gracious commu- 
nications to his soul ! He asked in what way God 
ought to be addressed : I told him as a Father, with 



S28 LEAVES 6HIRAZ. 

respectful love ; and added some other exhortations on 
the subject of prayer." 

! "May 11. — Aga Baba came to bid me farewell, 
which he did in the best and most solemn way, by 
asking, as a final question, 'whether, independently of 
external evidences, I had any internal proofs cf the 
doctrine of Christ] I answ^ered, ' Yes, undoubtedly ; 
the change from what 1 once was, is a sufficient evi- 
dence to me.' At last he took his leave, in great sor- 
row, and what is better, apparently in great solicitude 
about his soul. 

I " The rest of the day I continued with Mirza Seid 
Ali, giving him instructions what to do with the New 
Testament in case of my decease, and exhorting him, 
as far as his confession allow^ed me, to stand fast. He 
had made many a good resolution respecting his beset- 
ting sins. I hope, as well as pray, that some, last- 
ing effects may be seen at Shiraz, from the word of God 
left among them." 

CHAPTER X. 

MR. MARTYN LEAVES SHIRAZ IN ORDER TO LAY BEFORE THE 
KING HIS TRANSLATION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT — ARRIVES 
AT THE CAMP — IS NOT ADMITTED TO AN AUDIENCE — PRO- 
CEEDS TO TEBRIZ — SEVERE ILLNESS. 

On the evening of the 24th of May, one year after 
entering Persia, Mr. Martyn left Shiraz, in company 
with an English clergyman, with the intention of lay- 
ing before the king his translation of the New Testa- 
ment ; but finding that, without a letter of introduction 
from the British ambassador, he could not, consistent- 
ly with established usage, be admitted into the royal 
presence, he determined to proceed to Tebriz, where, 



JOURNAL. 329 

at that time, Sir Gore Ouseley, his Britannic majesty's 
minister, resided. 

'•■ His journey from Shiraz to Tebriz was not accom- 
plished in less than eight weeks, including one week 
spent at Isfahan, and a few days at the king's camp ; 
and the latter part of it was a time of great and unfore- 
seen suffering to him. Had he known to what peril 
his life would be subjected, he doubtless would have 
deemed his object of too insufficient a magnitude to 
justify his exposing himself to so much danger. 

*' A little before sun-set," Mr. Martyn writes, " I 
left the city, and at ten o^clock at night the cafila start- 
ed. Thus ended my stay at Shiraz. No year of my 
life was ever spent more usefully, though such a long 
separation from my friends was often a severe trial. 
Our journey to Persepolis was performed in ten hours, 
I had a fall from my horse, owing to the saddle com* 
ing off, but a gracious providence preserved me fronj 
harm.'^ 

*'May 12. — Staid at Futihabad, a village about a 
parasang from the ruins." ? 

*'May 13. — At three in the morning, we pursued our 
way, and at eight reached a village at the north-eastern 
extremity of the plain of Persepolis. Remained all 
day at the caravansera, correcting the prince's copy." 

" May 14. — Continued our journey through two 
ridges of mountains to Imanzadu : no cultivation to be 
seen any where, nor scarcely any natural vegetable 
production, except the broom and hawthorn. The 
weather was rather tempestuous, with cold gusts of 
wind and rain. 

*' The inhabitants of the village, this being the Iman- 
zadu's tomb, do no work, and pay no tax ; but are 
maintained by the surrounding villages, and the casual 
offerings of visitors to the tomb. The caravansera 
being in ruins, we staid all this rainy day at a private 
house, where we were visited by people who came to 
be cured of their distempers." 
3 E 2 



330 JOURNAL FROM 

** May 15. — From the top of a mountain, just behind 
Imanzadu, we descended into a vast plain, entirely un- 
iLhabited, except where the skirts of it were spotted 
with the black tents of the wandering tribes. Cross- 
ng the plain obliquely, we passed over a mountain in- 
to another plain, where was the same scene of desola- 
tion. After a journey of ten parasangs, arrived at two 
in the afternoon at the caravansera Khooshee Zar, 
which being in ruins, let in the wind upon us, at night, 
in all directions." 

" On rising on the morning of the 16th, we found a 
hoar frost, and ice in the pools. The excessive cold 
at this place is accounted for, by its being the highest 
land between the Persian gulf and the Caspian sea. 
The baggage not having come up, we were obliged to 
pass another day in this uncomfortable neighbourhood, 
where nothing was to be procured for ourselves or our 
horses ; the scarcity of rain this year having left the 
ground destitute of verdure, and the poor village near 
us having nothing to sell." 

** May 17. — Our way, to-day, lay along the same 
plain ; on the left was a ridge of hills covered with 
snow. Entering another plain, into which the former 
led, we reached a caravansera, near a small walled 
village, called Dih Serdoo." 

" May 18. — After a journey of much the same length, 
over uneven ground, where the view was much ob- 
structed, we arrived at a caravansera, in a great cleft, 
which divides Fars from Irak." 

** May 19. — Moved forward six parasangs, to a pri- 
vate house at Mujrood. The plain, as usual, uninhabit- 
ed ; but we passed oxie village." 

*• May 20. — Continued our march, over the same 
plain, to Comesha, four parasangs." 

*« May 21. — To Mygar, five parasangs. — Finished 
the revision of the prince's copy. At eleven at night 
we started for Isfahan, where we arrived soon after 
guti-rise on the 22nd, and were accommodated in one 



6HIRAZ TO ISFAHAN. S31 

of the king's palaces. Found my old Shiraz scribe 
here, and corrected with him the prince's copy." 

*' 23. — Called on the Armenian bishops at Julfa, 
and met Matteus. He is certainly vastly superior to 
any Armenian I have yet seen. We went, next, to the 
Italian missionary, Joseph Carabiciate, a native of 
Aleppo, but educated at Rome. He spoke Latin ; w^as 
very sprightly considering his age, which was sixty- 
six, but discovered no sort of inclination to talk about 
religion. Until lately, he had been supported by the 
Propaganda ; but w^eary, at last, of exercisiug his func- 
tions without remuneration, and even witliout the ne- 
cessary provision, he talked of returning to Aleppo." 

" May 24. Sunday. — Went early this morning to the 
Armenian church attached to the episcopal residence. 
Within the rails were two out of the four bishops, and 
other ecclesiastics : but in the body of the church, on- 
ly three people. Most of the Armenians at Julfa, 
"which is now reduced to five hundred houses, attend- 
ed at their respective parish churches, of which there 
are twelve, served by twenty priests. After their pa- 
geantry was over, and we were satisfied with proces- 
sions, ringing of bells, waving of colours, and other ce- 
remonies, which were so numerous as entirely to re- 
move all semblance of spiritual worship, we were con- 
demned to witness a repetition of the same mockery at 
the Italian's church, at his request. I could not stand 
it out ; but those who did, observed, that the priest ate 
and drank all the consecrated elements himself, and gave 
none to the few poor women who composed his con- 
gregation, and who, the Armenians said, had been hired 
for the occasion. In our way back, we called at the 
convent of Armenian nuns, a company of ignorant old 
women, who screamed out something in the church, 
which they called a welcome anthem. I tried to con- 
verse with the abbess, through Matteus, and was not 
much surprised to find her utterly without information, 
when the bishops have so little. I wished to learn 



333 PROCEEDS 

Matteus's sentiments on the subject of monachism. 
Though his defence of il shewed that he was not strong 
in his belief of its utility, I was grieved to see that he 
did not perceive how far the Christian way of sancti- 
fication differed from these human devices to attain 
that object. I talked to him a good deal about the office 
of the Holy Spirit, but he did not, while assenting, seem 
to feel its importance. Before returning to Isfahan, 
we sat a short time in the garden, with the bishops. 
They, poor things! had nothing to say, and could 
scarcely speak Persian : so that all the conversation 
was between me and Matteus. At my request he 
brought what he had of the Holy Scriptures, in Per- 
sian and Arabic. They were Wheloi's Persian gospels, 
and an Arabic version of the gospels, printed at Rome. 
I tried in vain to bring him to any profitable discus- 
sion^ with more sense than his brethren, he is not 
more advanced in spiritual knowledge. Returned much 
disappointed. .Tulfa had formerly twenty bishops, and 
about one hundred clergy, with twenty-four churches. 
All the Armenians can read, and have the New Tes- 
tament ; but family prayer is not known. They may 
go every day to church prayers. Matteus preaches eve- 
ry Sunday, he says, and this day expounded the first 
of John, which was the gospel for the day." 

" May 26. — The Armenian bishops and three priests 
eame to return our visit. Matteus brought with him 
a copy of the gospels, Armenian and Persian, done by 
Joannes, the late bishop here ; who, he says, was a 
good scholar, and wrote on the divinity^ of Christ." 

At the end of the month of May, Mr. Martyn depart- 
ed from Isfahan, and thus describes a route in which 
the extremes of lovely fertility and sterile desolation 
seem to have been united. 

"June 1. — Continued winding through the moun- 
tains to Caroo, situated in a deep dell. Here were 
trees, green corn-fields, and running streams ; it w?i3 



TO TESHAN. 333 

the first place I have seen in Asia which exhibited 
any thing of the scenery of England." 

*' June 2. — Soon after midnight we mounted our 
horses. It was a mild moonlight ni^ht, and a night- 
ing.'ile filled tlie whole valley with his notes. Our 
way was along lanes, over wliich the wood on each 
side formed a canopy, and a murmuring rivulet accom- 
panied us, till it was lost in a lake. At day-light we 
emerged into the plain of Cashan, which seems to be 
a part of the Great Salt Desert. On our arrival at the 
king's garden, where we intended to pat up, we were 
at first refused admittance, but an application to the 
governor was soon attended to. We saw, here, huge 
snowy mountains on the north-east beyond Tehran." 

*' June 5. — Reached Kom ; the country uniformly de- 
solate* 

" The chief Moojtuhid in all Persia being a resident 
of this city, I sent to know if a visit would be agreea- 
ble to him. His reply was, that if I had any business 
with him, I might come ; but if otherwise, his age and 
infimities must be his excuse. Intending to travel a 
double stage, started soon after sun-set ; and on 

" June 6. — Crossed the desert, which we had been 
skirting from the day we came in sight of Cashan. After 
travelling ten parasangs, reached the caravansera of 
Hour Sultania. Here, first, we seemed to be approach- 
ing the Tartar regions." 

" June 7. — Arrived at a caravansera, with villages 
in the neighbourhood, seven parasangs. A large party 
gathered about me in the evening, and from asking 
questions about Europe, proceeded, as usual, to inter- 
rogate me concerning Christ. TJiey continued about 
me till I mounted my horse, and rode from amongst 
them, to prosecute my journey." 

"June 8. — Arrived, two hours before day-break, at 
the walls of Tehran. I spread my bed upon the high 
road, and slept till the gates were open ; then entered 



334 VISITS THE CAMP ^ 

the city, and took up my abode at the ambassador's 
house." 

As no muleteers could be procured at Tehran to pro- 
ceed to Tebriz, it was considered advisable that Mr. 
Martyn should travel alone to the king's camp, for the 
purpose of seeing Mirza Shufi, the premier, or Amee- 
noddoula, and soliciting his assistance in obtaining for 
him an introduction to the king; for he was " anxious 
to lose no time in presenting his book." So, "leaving 
the city," he says, " just before the gates were shut, 
and giving the cattle their feed outside the walls, I 
went on, and travelled all night, till sunrise, when I 
arrived at the caravansera, close to the king's camp at 
Carach. I lost no time in forwarding Jaffier AllKhan's 
letter to the premier, who sent to desire that I would 
come to him. I found him lying ill in the verandah 
of the king's tent of audience. Near him were sitting 
two persons, who I was afterwards informed were Mirza 
Khanter, and Mirza Abdoolwahab ; the latter being a 
secretary of state, and a great admirer of the Soofie 
sage. They took very little notice, not rising when I 
sat down, as is their custom to all who sit with them ; 
nor offering me calean. The two secretaries, on learning 
my object in coming, began a conversation with me, 
on religon and metaphysics, which lasted two hours. 
As they were both well-edacated, gentlemanly men, 
the discussion was temperate, and, I hope, useful. 
What I remember of it was as follows : ' Do you con- 
sider the New Testament as the word spoken by God V 
* The sense from God, but the expression from the 
different writers of it.' Here the premier asked how 
many languages I understood ; whether I spoke French ; 
where I was educated ; whether I understood astrono- 
my and geography 1 and then observed to the others, 
that I spoke good Persian; to which they assented. 
They resumed — ' We want to know what your learned 
men think about the state of the soul after death, till 
the resurrection?' I mentioned the different opinions. 



OF THE KING OF PERSIA. 335 

* But how, think yon, does the spirit exist without a 
hody V ' Tell me,' said I, ' how the angels exist, and 
I will tell you.' ' In what sense do you believe the re- 
surrection of the body ; that every particle buried shall 
rise ]' I mentioned the scripture metaphor of the wheat 
dying- and rising, with which the Soofie secretary ap- 
peared much pleased. ' What are the principles of your 
religion]' 'They are all centred in Jesus; not in his 
precepts, but in himself.' ' What are your opinions 
concerning Christ : was he a prophet created 1 ' His 
manhood was created ; his Godhead, of course, was 
not.' 'Now we much wish to hear what are your no- 
tions on that extraordinary subject, the Trinity V I ex- 
plained them, and began with observing, that the doc- 
trine was by no means so extraordinary as at first sight 
it appeared to be ; and then brought forward the illus- 
tration from the words, " the Image of the invisible 
God." 'Have you read the Koran r ' Yes.' 'Is it 
not a miracle V ' Prove it to be so.' The Soofie said, 
as if from me, ' the Arabs say it is inimitably elegant ; 
how do I, who am a Persian, know it to be soV 
' What do you say to the division of the moon ]' 'That 
there is no sufficient evidence for it.' 'W^hat superior 
evidence have you for the miracles of Christ?' I was 
about to answer, when the Soofie, not thinking it 
would be satisfactory, said, rather dogmatically, that 
no religiT)n could be proved demonstratively. I said 
that ' If such a degree of probable evidence was addu- 
ced, as we acted upon in common life, we should be 
inexcusable in rejecting it.' 

" On the top of the caravansera, at sun-set, I had a 
conversation of a different kind, on these subjects. A 
man, seated on his rug, asked me what I walked up 
and down for, and told me to come and sit with him 
on his carpet. I did so, and found him to be a plain 
Mahometan, that is, a compound of bigotry and igno- 
rance. Every thing I said went for nothing. I knew 
nothing at all about the gospel. He had talked with 



336 AT THE CAMP 

Armenian preachers, and therefore knew more about 
the matter than myself. They had told him, that the 
story of Jesus and Mary in the Koran was exactly 
true; this he took to be an acknowledgement that the 
book was from God. Thinking it worih while, to see 
the state of the middling rank of Mahometans, I let him 
talk away. He supposed that the Mahometans had 
formerly taken all Europe, and that we still paid trihute 
for being permitted to live. That the mother of Mehdi 
was the daughter of Simon Peter or Plato : he could 
not tell which, but rather thought it was Constantine, 
emperor of Rome. He could not understand how Eu- 
rope should be on one side of Persia, and India on the 
other. Such geographical difficulties are not to be won- 
dered at in such a poor fellow, though he had travel- 
led as a merchant a good deal — when the Mollahs, and 
probably even the ministers of state, do not know the 
relative situation of the provinces of their own king- 
dom. 

"This man was very angry at my presuming to ask 
why he was a Mahometan. Finding me at last more 
disposed to hear than to speak, he began to think that 
his discourse had made some impression upon me ; and 
with eyes sparkling with hopes of a conquest, told me, 
with great affection, what I should do to get a know- 
ledge of the truth. ' Drink,' said he, ' no wine for 
three days : pray, according to your own "form, for 
divine direction-^and depend upon it you will find it.' 
* But supposing,' said I, ' that I have no such doubts 
in my mind, as to feel my need of divine direction in 
this particular; what then?' 'Why then,' said he, 
looking grimly, ' I have nothing more to say to you ; 
and so, good night." ' 

The third day after the above conversations, Mr. 
Martyn was called to a severer trial of his faith and 
patience than any to which he had yet been exposed. 
Several of the most intemperate MooUahs set them- 
selves in array against him, and contended with, him 



OP THE KING OF PERSIA. 337 

in behalf of Mahometanism, in the presence of tlie prime 
minister of the kingdom. There it was demanded of 
him that lie should deny that Saviour who had bought 
him with his blood : but he '' witnesed a g-ood confes- 
sion," and fearlessly acknowledged Jesus as his Lord. 

"June 12. — I attended the Vizier's levee, where 
there Avas a most intemperate and clamorous controver- 
sy kept up for an hour or two ; eight or ten on one 
side, and I on tlie other. Amongst them were two 
Moollahs, the most ignorant of any I have yet met 
in either Persia or India, It would be impossible to 
enumerate all the absurd things they said. Their vul- 
garity, in interrupting me in the middle of a speech ; 
their utter ignorance of the nature of an argument ; 
their impudent assertions about the law and the gospel, 
neither of which they had ever seen in their lives, mov- 
ed my indignation a little. I wished, and I said it 
would have been well, if Mirza Abdoolwahab had been 
there ; I should then have had a man of sense to argue 
with. The Vizier, who set us going at first, joined in 
it latterly, and said, ' You had better say, God is God, 
and Mahomet is the prophet of God.' I said, ' God is 
God,' but added, instead of ' Mahomet is the prophet 
of God,' ' and Jesus is the Son of God.' They had na 
sooner heard this, w^hich I had avoided bringing for- 
ward till then, than they all exclaimed in contempt 
and anger, ' He is neither born nor begets,' and rose 
up, as if they would have torn me in pieces. One of 
them said, 'What will you say when your tongue is 
burnt out for this blasphemy V 

" One of them felt for me a little, and tried to soften 
the severity of this speech. My book which I had 
brought, expecting to present it to the king, lay before 
Mirza Shufi. As they all rose up, after him, to go, 
some to the king, and some away, I was afraid they 
would trample upon the book ; so I went in among 
them to take it up, and wrapped it iff a towel before 
3 F 



338 PROCEEDS 

them ; while they looked at it and me with supreme 
contempt. 

" Thus I walked away alone to my tent, to pass the 
rest of the day in heat and- dirt. What have I done, 
thought I, to merit all this scorn 1 nothing, T trust, 
but bearing testimony to Jesus. I thought over these 
things in prayer, and my troubled heart found that 
peace which Christ hath promised to his disciples: — 
"If on my face, for thy dear name," &c. 

" To complete the trials of the day, a message came 
from the Vizier, in the evening, to say that it was the 
custom of the king not to see any Englishman, unless 
presented by the ambassador or accredited by a letter 
from him ; and that I must therefore wait till the king 
reached Sultania, where the ambassador would be." 

After this " day of rebuke and blasphemy" — when 
that divine promise was eminently fulfilled towards 
Mr. Martyn, " thou shalthide them in the secret of thy 
presence from the pride of man ; thou shalt keep them 
secretly in thy pavilion from the strife of tongues ;" — 
when having heard the "slander of many," and being 
made " a reproach amongst all his enemies," he could 
nevertheless exclaim with the Psalmist, " O how great 
is thy goodness, which thou hast laid up for them that 
fear thee, which thou hast wrought for them that trust 
in thee before the sons of men," — he turned his back 
upon the king's camp, having been joined by his com- 
panion from Tehran, and prosecuted his journey to- 
wards Tebriz. ^ 

''June 13. — Disappointed," he writes, *' of my object 
in coming to the camp, I lost no time in leaving it, and 

proceeded in company with Mr. C , who had just 

joined me from Tehran, towards Casbin; intending 
there to wait the result of an application to the ambas- 
sador. Started at eleven, and travelled till eleven next 
morning, having^one ten parasangs, or forty miles, to 
Quishlag. The country all along was well watered 



TOWARDS TEBRIZ. 



339 



and cultivated/ The mules being too much tired to pro- 
ceed, we passed the day at the village ; indeed we all 
wanted rest. As I sat down in the dust, on a shady side 
of a walled village by which we passed, and surveyed 
the plains over which our road lay, I sighed at the 
thought of my dear friends in India and England ; of 
the vast regions I must traverse before I can get to 
either, and of the various and unexpected hindrances 
which present themselves to my going forward ! 1 com- 
fort myself- with the hope that my God has something 
for me to do, by thus delaying my exit. 

" June IG. — Continued at the village, in consequence 

of an illness with which Mr. C was attacked ; 

but at night we moved forward, and after travelling 
seven parasangs over the same fine plain, reached Casbin. 
"June 17. — In the caravansera there, they were col- 
lecting straw, &c. for the king, whom they expected 
in ten days. On this plea, they refused to allow us 
to unload there, 

" June 18. — Endeavoured to get a muleteer to go to 
the ambassador, but could agree with none, so I deter- 
mined to stay at Casbin. I had at first intended to go 
on to Sultania, there to wait for the King." 

"June 20. — Left this place, not a little disgusted 
at the reception we had met with there. One parasang 
off, we stopped at a village to get something for break- 
fast. One of the people there asked a good many ques- 
tions about our -religion. It was such an unusual thing 
to be travelling coolly, in the middle of the day, in the 
east, that it produced a new train of ideas: indeed I 
thought of nothing but of my dear friends in England, 
and of the days when, in weather like this, I walked 
with them, ' taking sweet counsel.' While passing 
over the plain, mostly on foot, I had them all in my 
mind, and bore them upon my heart in prayer. The 
north wind from the Caspian, I suppose, blowing- 
through some clouds which rested on the mountains on 
OUT right, made the air excessively cold," 



340 70URNET 

*' Arrived, between twelve and one o'clock, at Scah 
Dulir, where a villager gave us his house ; and though 
the room we were in was so constructed as scarcely 
to admit the light, we had need of all our skins to keep 
us warm." 

*' June 21 . — On account of the coldness of the w^ea- 
ther, we did not think it necessary to start till seven 
o'clock, after breakfast. Arrived at the village of Aber 
at four in the afternoon, having taken the shortest 
route. Till we reached the high and frequented road, 
all was barrenness ; but from thence we found a good 
deal of cultivation, as also all the way from Casbin ; 
near which city the vineyards were all open to the 
road ; there was not so much as a fence." 

*' June 22. — Left Sangla at a quarter past five in 
the morning, and at a quarter past ten reached Sulta- 
nia. The weather was perfectly cool and agreeable, 
and all around w^ere the pastures of the wilderness. 
We met with the usual insulting treatment at the ca- 
ravansera, where the king's servants had got possession 
of a good room, built for the reception of the better 
order of guests — they seemed to delight in the oppor- 
tunity of humbling an European. Sultania is still but 
a village ; yet the Zengan prince has quartered himself 
and all his attendants with their horses, on this poor little 
village. All along the mad where the king is expect- 
ed, the people are patiently waiting, as for some dread- 
ful disaster : — plague, pestilence, or famine, are no- 
thing to the misery of being subject to the violence and 
extortion of this rabble soldiery. One oTour servants, 
who himself had formerly been a soldier in the king's 
camp, said, that the troops were raised from the wan- 
dering tribes, and from the cities. Those from the tribes 
are paid by the king, the others by the cities. Some 
of the chiefs of the tribes, and indeed, of all in impor- 
tant governments, are detained at court as hostages." 
"June 24. — Left Sultania at half past three. Saw 
some water-tortoises on the edge of the little stream 



TO TEBRIZ. 341 

which watered the vale. Continued our course to Zen- 
gan, a walled city, distant from Sultania six parasangs. 
Here we found, in the caravansera, large bales of cot- 
ton brought by merchants from Tehran, intended for 
Turkey. There were also two Tartar merchants, na- 
tives of Astrachan, who had brought iron and tea for 
sale. They wished to know whether we wanted tea 
of Cathay. I was curious to know something about 
the countries they had visited ; but they spoke nothing 
but Turkish, without which language a person may 
travel to very little purpose in these parts ; Persian 
is quite a foreign language." 

" June 25. — After a restless night, rose so ill with 
a fever that I could not go on. My companion, Mr. 
C , was nearly in the same state. We touched no- 
thing all day." 

" June 26. — After such another night, I had determin- 
ed to go on, but Mr. C declared himself unable 

to stir ; so here we dragged through another miserable 
day. What added to our distress was, that we were 
in danger, if detained here another day or two, of being_ 
absolutely in want of the necessaries of life before 
reaching Tebriz. We made repeated applications to 
the monied people, but none would advance a piastre. 
Where are the people who flew forth to meet General 
Malcolm with their purses and their lives 1 — Another 
generation is risen up, " who know not Joseph." Pro- 
videntially a poor muleteer arriving from Tebriz, be- 
came security for us, and thus we obtained five tomans. 
This was a heaven-send : and w^e lay dow^n quietly, 
free from apprehensions of being obliged to go a fa- 
tiguing journey of eight or ten hours, without a house 
or village in the way, in our present weak and reduc- 
ed state. We had now eaten nothing for two days. 
My mind was much disordered from head-ache and gid- 
diness, from which I w^as seldom free ; but my heart, 
I trust, was with Christ and his saints. To live much 

2 F 2 



343 JOURNET 

longer in this world of sickness and pain, seemed no 
way desirable ; the most favourite prospects of my 
heart seemed very poor and childish ; and cheerfully 
would I have exchanged them all for the unfading in- 
heritance." 

" June 27. — My Armenian servant was attacked in 
the same way. 'i'he rest did notoetme the things that I 
wanted, so that I passed the third day in the same ex- 
hausted state; my head, too, was tortured with shock- 
ing pain, such as, together with the horror I felt at 
being exposed to the sun, shewed me plainly to what 
to ascribe my sickness. Towards evening, two more 
of our servants were attacked in the same way, and lay 
groaning from pains in the head." 

" June 28. — All were much recovered, but in the af- 
ternoon I again relapsed. During a high fever, Mr. 

C read to me, in bed, the epistle to the Ephe- 

sians, and I never felt the consolations of that divine re- 
velation of mysteries more sensibly and solemnly. 
Rain in the night prevented o,ur setting off." 

" June 29. — My ague and fever returned, with such 
a head-ache, that I was almost frantic. Again and 
again I said to myself, " Let patience have her perfect 
work;" and kept pleading the promises, "When thou 
passest through the waters, I will be with thee," &c. ; 
and the Lord did not withhold his presence. I endea- 
voured to repel all the disordered thoughts that the fe- 
fever occasioned, and to keep in mind that all was 
friendly ; a friendly Lord presiding; and nothing exer- 
cising me but what would show itself at last friendly. 
A violent perspiration at last relieved the acute pain 
in my head, and my heart rejoiced ; but as soon as 
that was over, the exhaustion it occasioned, added to 
the fatigue from the pain, left me in as low a state of 
depression as ever I was in. I seemed about to sink 
into a long fainting fit, and I almost wished it; but 
at this moment, a little after midnight, I was sum- 
moned to mount my horse, and set out, rather dead 



TO TEBRXZ. 843 

than alive. We moved on six parasangs. We had 
a thunder storm with hail." 

*' July 1. — A long and tiresome March to Sarehund : 
in seven parasangs there was no village. They had 
nothing lo sell but buttermilk and bread ; but a ser- 
vant of Abbas Mirza, happening to be at the same 
caravansera, sent us some flesh of a mountain-cow, 
which he had shot the day before. All day 1 had 
scarcely the right recollection of myself, from the vio- 
lence of the ague. We have now leached the end of 
the level ground, which we have had all the way from 
Tehran and are approaching the boundaries of Parthia 
and Media ; a most natural boundary it is, as the two 
ridges of mountains we have had on the left and right, 
come round and form a barrier." 

" July 2. — At two in the morning we set out. I 
hardly know when I have been so disordered. I had 
little or no recollection of things, and what 1 did re- 
member, at times, of happy scenes in India and Eng- 
land, served only to embitter m)'' present situation. 
Soon after removing into the air, I was seized with a 
violent ague; and in this state 1 went on till sun-rise. 
At three parasangs and a half, we found a fine cara- 
vansera, apparently very little used, as the grass was 
growing in the court. There was nothing all round 
but the barren rocks, which generally roughen the 
country before the mountain rears its height. Such 
an edifice, in such a situation, was cheering. Soon 
after we came to a river, over which was a high 
bridge ; I sat down in the shade under it, with two 
camel-drivers. The cafila, as it happened, forded the 
river, and passed on, without my perceiving it. Mr. 
C , seeing no signs of me, returned, and after look- 
ing about for some time, espied my horse grazing ; 
he concluded immediately that the horse had flung me 
from the bridge into the river, and was almost ready 
to give me up for lost. My speedy appearance from un- 
der the bridge, relieved his terror and anxiety. The 



344 JOURNET 

pass was a mere nothing to those at Bushire ; in fact 
it was no part of the mountain we climbed, but only 
a few hills. In a natural opening in the mountains, 
on the other side, was a river, with most of its bed 
dry; and over it abridge of many arches, which led 
us to an unwalled village, surrounded by corn-fields, 
which we reached at ten o'clock. Half the people 
still continue ill ; for myself, I am, through God's in- 
finite mercy, recovering." 

'^ July 3. — Started at three, full three hours after we 
ought, and as was to be expected, we all got ill again, 
from being exposed to the sun six hoars ; for we did 
not get to our ground, Turcoman, till eleven o'clock. 
It was a poor village among the hills, over which our 
whole way lay, from Mianu. Ascending one, and 
descending another, was the whole of the variety, so 
that I do not know when we have had a more tire- 
some day." 

" July 4. — I so far prevailed as to get the cafila 
into motion at midnight. Lost our way in the night, 
but arriving at a village, were set right again. At 
eight came to Kilk caravansera, but not stopping there, 
went on to a village, where we arrived at half-past 
nine. The baggage not coming up till long after, we 
got no breakfast till one o'clock. In consequence of 
all these hings — want of sleep, want of refreshment, 
and exposure to the sun, I was presently in a high 
fever ; which raged so furiously all the day, that 
I was nearly delirious, and it was sumetime before 
I could get the right recollection of myself. I al- 
most despaired, and do now, of getting alive through 
this unfortunate journey. Last night I felt remark- 
ably well, calm, and composed, and sat reflecting 
on my heavenly rest, with more sweetness of soul, 
abstraction from the world, and solemn views of God 
than I have had for a long time. Oh ! for such sacred 
hours ! This short and painful life would scarcely 
bB felt, could I live thus at heaven's gate. It being 



TO TEBRIZ. 845 

impossible to continue my journey in my present state, 
and one of the servants also being so ill thai he could 
not move with safety, we determined to halt one day 
at the village, and sent on a messenger to Sir Gore, at 
Tebriz, informing him of our approach." 

"July 5. — Slept all day, and at sun-set prepared to 
proceed all the way to Tebriz, or at least* to Seid Abad ; 
but we did not set out till one in the morning. I was 
again dreadfully disordered with head-ache and fever. 
We got into a wretched hovel, where the raging fever 
almost deprived me of reason. In the .cool of the 
evening we set out to go to Seid Abad, distant about 
three parasangs. When the cafila arrived near Seid 
Abad, it was a dark night about eleven o'clock, and 
not one of the party knew Aviiere it was, nor could we 
discover it by the barking of the dogs, the usual sign. 
Once we heard the bark, and made sure of having at- 
tained our object ; but found only some shepherds 
keeping watch over their flocks by night. These 
boors showed us which road to take, which we soon 
found end in nothing; so returning, we tried to in- 
duce one of them to serve as a guide, with the pro- 
mise of any sum of money he required — but all in 
vain. The only thing that remained to be done was 
to lie down on the spot, and wait patiently for the 
day : which I did, and caught such a cold, as, with 
all our other exposures, consummated my disorders. 
As soon as it was day, we found our Avay to the vil- 
lage, where Dr. -— was waiting for us. Not be- 
ing able to stay for us, he went on to Tebriz, and we 
as far as Wasmuch, where he promised to procure for 
us a fine upper room, furnished ; but when we arrived, 
they denied that there was any such place; at last, 
after an hour's threatening, we got admittance to it. 
An hour before break of day I left it, in hopes of 
reaching Tebriz before sun-rise. Some of the people 
seemed to feel compassion for me, and asked me if I 
was not very ill. At last I reached the gate, and fee- 



346 CONFINED BY ILLNESS 

bly asked for a man to show me the way to the Am- 
bassador's." 

-By a fever of nearly two months' continuance, 
which, during the greater portion of that period, raged 
with unremitting severity, Mr. Martyn was defeated 
in his intention of presenting in person his transla- 
tion of the New Testament to the king of Persia and 
to the prince, his son. His disappointment, how- 
ever, on this occasion, was greatly diminished by the 
kindness of Sir George Ousley, who, together with 
his lady, was tenderly and assiduously attentive to 
Mr. Martyn throughout the whole of his illness ; and 
who, in order that nothing might be wanting condu- 
cive to the favorable acceptance of the New Testa- 
ment by the king, promised himself to present it at 
court.* 

The idea of returning to England, which first oc- 
curred to Mr. Martyn at Cawnpore, was, as we have 
seen, instantly abandoned by him, on its appearing to 
be the divine will that he should visit Persia. Af- 
ter accomplishing his great object in that country, the 
general state of his health seeming to him to render 
the measure requisite, he reverted to his original inten- 
tion ; in the prosecution of which he was confirmed 
by his long illness at Tebriz, which had been induced 
by exposure to a heated atmosphere. 

Happy would it have been, speaking after the man- 
ner of men, had he been less precipitate in putting his 
4iesign in execution ; but, on the tenth day after his 
recovery, he commenced his journey. What he felt 
when deprived of health ; and what were his sensa- 
tions when in a considerable degree restored to it, 
may be seen in extracts from two letters, the one ad- 

*Sir George Ousley, according to li'is promise, laid the New 
Testament before the king, who publicly expressed his appro- 
bation of the work. He also carried the MS. to St. Petersburg, 
where, under his superintendence, it was printed and pat into 
circulation. See Appendix A. 



AT TEBRI2. Si7 

dressed to Mr. Simeon, from the bed of suffering-; 
the other sent to a friend exceedingly beloved by him 
in Cornwall. 

" I would not pain your heart," he said, in the first, 
'* but we who are in Jesus have the privilege of view- 
ing life and death as nearly the same, since both are 
ours ; and I thank a gracious Lord that sickness never 
came at a time when I was more free from apparent 
reasons for living. Nothing, seemingly, remains for 
me to do, but to follow the rest of my family to the 
tom-b." 

" It has pleased God," he wrote in the second, " to 
restore me to life and health again : not that I have 
yet recovered my former strength, but 1 consider my- 
self sufficiently restored to prosecute my journey. 
My daily prayer is, that my late chastisement may 
have its intended effect, and make me, all the rest of 
my days, more humble and less self-confident. Self- 
confidence has often let me down fearful lengths ; and 
would, without God's gracious interference, prove my 
endless perdition, I seem to be made to feel this evil 
of my heart more than any other, at this time. In 
prayer, or when I write or converse on the subject, 
Christ appears to be my life and strength ; but at 
other times, I am thoughtless and bold, as if I had all 
life and strength in myself. Such neglects on our 
part are a diminution of our joys; but the Covenant! 
the Covenant stands fast with Him for his people 
evermore. I mentioned my conversing sometimes on 
divine subjects. In these I am sometimes led on by 
the Soofie Persians, and tell them all I know of the 
the very recesses of that sanctuary. But to give an 
account of all my discussions with these mystic phi- 
losophers, must be reserved to the time of our meeting. 
Do I dream ! that I venture to think and write of such 
an event as that 1 Is it possible that we shall ever 
meet again below 1 Though it is possible, I dare not 
indulge such a pleasing hope. 



348 CONFINED BY ILLNESS AT TEBRIZ 

*' In three days I intend setting my horse's head to- 
wards Constantinople, distant about one thousand 
three hundred miles. Nothing, I think, will occasicn 
any further detention here, if I can procure servants 
who know both Persian and Turkish. Ignorant as I 
am of Turkish, should 1 be taken ill on the road, my 
case would be pitiable indeed. The ambassador and 
his suite are still here; his and Lady Ousley's at- 
tentions to me during my illness, have been unremitted. 
I'he Prince Abbas Mirza, the wisest of the king's 
sons, and heir to the throne, was here some time after 
my arrival. I much wished to present a copy of my 
Persian New Testament to him, but I could not rise 
from my bed. The book, however, will be given him 
by the ambassador. Public curiosity about the gospel, 
now, for the first time in the memory of the modern 
Persians, introduced into the country, is a good deal 
excited here and at Shiraz, and in other places ; so 
that, upon the whole, I am thankful for having been 
led hither, and detained ; though my residence in thia 
country has been attended with many unpleasant cir» 
cumstances. The way of the kings of the east is 
preparing : thus much may be said with safety, but 
little more. The Persians will also take the lead in 
the march to Sion." 



HIS JOURNEY HOMEWARDS. 349 



CHAPTER XI. 

MR. MARTYN COMMENCES HIS JOURNEY HOMEWARDS, BY WAY 

OF CONSTANTINOPLE — VISITS ECII-MIAZIN SUFFERS FROM 

FEVER DIES,. AT TOCAT, IN PERSIA VIEW OF IIIS CliA- 

RACTER — CONCLUSION. 

With such feeble hopes of reaching England, Mr. 
Martyn commenced a journey which was the most 
painful, and at the same time the most joyful one he 
ever undertook. The miseries he endured in it were 
intense : but it ended in heaven. 

" Sept. 2. — All things being ready," he says, *' I 
set out on my long journey of one thousand three hun- 
dred miles, carrying letters for Sir Gore Ouseley, 
for the Governors of Irivan, Cars, and Erzerum, and 
the ambassador at Constantinople. My party con- 
sisted of two Armenian servants, Antoine the groom, 
and Sergius, who was to accompany me all the way 
to Constantinople, he professing to speak Persian and 
Turkish, and to be qualified to act as my interpreter; 
but his knowledge of the former I soon found to be 
rather scanty. These were mounted, and two other 
horses carried my luggage ; my Mihmander had also 
Chappar* horses; and I rode my own; there was 
also a man on foot, to bring back the cattle. As w^e 
passed through the bazars of Tebriz, I saw quantities 
of the finest fruit displayed on every stand. At sun- 
set we left the western gate of Tebriz behind us. 
The horses proved to be sorry animals ; one sunk so 
often under his load, that we were six hours going 
what the Mihmander called two parasangs, but which 

* Mr. Martyn, through the friendly interference of the am- 
bassador, travelled with what are termed Chappar Horses; 
for an acount of which see Burder^s Oriental Custofns, p. 260. 
2 G 



350 HIS JOURNEY 

was undoubtedly three or four. It was midnight he-^ 
fore we arrived at Sangla, a village in the middle of 
the plain of Tebriz. There they procured me a place 
in the Zabit's house. I slept till after sun-rise of the 
third, and did not choose to proceed at such an hour; 
so I passed niost of the day in my room. At three 
in the afternoon proceeded towards Sofian. My health 
being- again restored, through infinite and unbounded 
mercy, I was able to look round the creation with 
calm delight. The plain of Tebriz, towards the west 
and south-west, stretches away to an immense dis- 
tance, and is bounded in these directions by mountains 
so remote, as to appear, from their soft blue, to blend 
with the skies. The baggage having been sent on 
before, I ambled on with my Mihmander, looking all 
around me, and especially towards the distant hills, 
with gratitude and joy. Oh ! it is necessary to have 
been confined to abed of sickness, to know the de- 
light of moving freely through the works of God, with 
the senses left at liberty to enjoy their proper objects. 
My attendant not being very conversant with Persian, 
we rode silently along ; for my part I could not have 
enjoyed any companion so much as I did my own 
feelings. At sun-set we reached Sofian, a village 
with gardens, at the north-west end of the plain ; 
which is usually the first stage from Tebriz. The 
Zabit was in his corn-field, under a little tent, inspect- 
ing his labourers, who were cutting the straw fine, 
so as to be fit to be eaten by the cattle ; this was done 
by drawing over it a cylinder armed with blades of a 
triangular form, placed in different planes, so that 
their vertices should coincide in the cylinder, 

" The Zabit paid me no attention, but sent a man 
to show me a place to sleep in, who took me to one 
with only three walls. I demanded another with 
four, and was, accordingly, conducted to a weaver's, 
where, notwithstanding the musquitoes and other ver- 
min, I passed the night comfortably enough. On 



ttOMEWARDS. 



351 



my offering money, the Mihmander interfered, and 
he said if it were known that I had given money, he - 
should be rained : and added,—' they indeed, dare 
not take it ;* but this I did not find to be the case. 

^' Sept. 4. — At sun-rise mounted my horse, and 
proceeded north-west, through a pass in the moun- 
tains, towards Murun. By the way, I sat down by 
the brook, and there ate my bread and raisins, and 
drank of the crystal stream ; but either the coldness 
of this unusual breakfast, or the riding after it, did 
not at all agree with me. The heat oppressed me 
much, and the road seemed intolerably tedious ; at 
last we got out from among the mountains, and saw 
the village of Murun, in a fine valley on the right. It 
was about eleven o'clock when we reached it. As the 
Mihmander could not immediately find a place to put me 
in, we had a complete view of this village. They 
slared at my European dress, but no disrespect was 

shown. I was deposited, at last, with Khan, 

v/ho was seated in a place with three walls. Not at all 
disponed to pass the day in company, as well as ex- 
posed, I asked for another room ; on which I was 
shown to the stable, w^here there was a little place 
partitioned off, but so as to admit a view of the horses. 
The smell of the stable, though not in general dis- 
agreeable to me, was so strong, that I was quite un- 
well, and strangely dispirited and melancholy. Im- 
mediately after dinner, 1 fell fast asleep, and slept 
four hours ; after which I rose and ordered them to 
prepare for the next journey. The horses being 
changed here, it was some time before they were 
bi-ought, but by exerting myself, we moved off by 
midnight. It was a most mild and delightful night, 
and the pure air, after the smell of the stable, was 
quite reviving. For once, also, I travelled all the 
way without being sleepy ; and beguiled the hours 
of the night by thinking of the 14th Psalm— espe- 



353 HIS ^OUnNET 

cially the connection of the last three verses with th« 
preceding. 

" Sept. 5. — In five hours we were just on the hills 
which face the pass out of the valley of Murum, and 
in four hours and a half more, emerged from be- 
tween the two ridg-es of mountains, into the val- 
ley of Gurjur. Gurjuris eight parasangs from Murun, 
and our course to it was nearly due north. This long 
march was far from being a fatiguing one. The air, 
the road, and my spirits were good. Here I was well 
accommodated, but had to mourn over my impatient 
temper towards my servants ; there is nothing that 
disturbs my peace so much. How much more noble 
and godlike to bear with calmness, and observe with 
pity, rather than anger, the failings and offences of 
others. O that I may, through grace, be enabled to 
recollect myself in the time of temptation I O that 
the Spirit of God maj'- check my folly, and at such 
times, bring the lowly Saviour to my view. 

" Sept. 6. — Soon after twelve we started with fresh 
horses, and came to the Arar, or Araxes, distant two 
parasangs, and about as broad as the Isis, with a cur- 
rent as strong as that of the Ganges. The ferry-boat 
being on the other side, I lay down to sleep till it 
came, but observing my servants do the same, I was 
obliged to get up and exert myself. It dawned, how- 
ever, before we got over. The boat was a huge fabric 
in the form of a rhombus. The ferryman had only a 
stick to pufth with ; an oar, I dare say, he had never 
seen or heard of, and many of my trairrhad probably 
never floated before; — so alien is a Persian from eve- 
ry thing that belongs to shipping. We landed safely 
on the other side in about two minutes. We were 
four hours in reaching Nackshan, and for half an hour 
more I was led from street to street, till at last 1 was 
lodged in a wash-house belonging to a great man, a 
corner of which was cleaned out forme. It was near 
noon, and my baggage was not arrived ; so that I was 



HDMEAVARDS. 353 

^Ibiliged to go without my breakfast, wliich was hard 
after a ride of four hours in the sun. The bagorage 
was delayed so long that I began to fear ; at last, 
however, it arrived. All the afternoon I sl^pt, and at 
&un-set arose, and continued w^akeful till midnight, 
when I roused my people, and with fresh horses set 
out again. We travelled till sun-rise. I scarcely 
perceived that we had been moving — a Hebrew word 
in the 16th Psalm, having led me gradually into specu- 
lations on the eighth conjugation of the Arabic verb. 
I am glad my philological curiosity is revived, as my 
mind will be less liable to idleness. 

*' Sept. 7. — Arrived at Khoock, a poor village dis- 
tant five and a half parasangs from Nackshan, nearly 
west. I should have mentioned, that on descending 
into the plain of Neckshan, my attention was arrest- 
ed by tlie appearance of a hoary mountain, opposite 
to us, at the other end, rising so high above the rest 
that they sunk into insignificance. It was truly sub- 
lime, and th-e interest it excited was not lessened, 
when, on inquiring its name, I w^as told it was Agri, 
or Ararat. Thus I saw two remarkable objects in one 
day — the Araxas, and Ararat. At four in the after- 
noon we set out for Shurror. Th-e evening was plea- 
sant; the ground over which we passed was full of 
rich cultivation and verdure, watered by many a stream, ' 
and 'Containing forty villages, most of them with the 
usual appendage of gardens. To add to the scene, 
tho great Ararat was on the left. On the peak of that 
hill th-e whole church was once contained : it has now 
spread far and wide, even to the ends of the earth, 
but the ancient vicinity of it knows it no more. I 
fancied many a spot where Noah perhaps offered his 
sacrifices; and the promise of tjlod, 'that seed-time 
and harvest should not cease,' appeared to me to be 
more exactly fulfilled in the agreeable plain in which 
it was spoken than elsewhere, as I had not seen such 
fertility in any part of the Shah's dominions. Here 
2G2 



354 HIS JOURNET 

the blessed saint landed in a new world; so may T, 
safe in Christ, outride the storm of life, and land at 
last on one of the everlasting hills ! 

" Niolit coming on, we lost our way, and got inter- 
cepted by some deep rav.ncs, into one of wliich the 
horse that carried my trunks sunk so deep, that the wa- 
ter got into one of them, wetted the linen, and spoiled 
some books. Finding it in vain to attempt gaining 
our munzil, we went to another village, where, after a 
long deLiy, two aged men with silver beards opened 
their house to us. Though it was near midnight, I 
had a fire lighted to dry my books, took some coffee, 
and sunk into deep sleep; from which awaking at the 
earliest dawn of 

'' Sept. 8. — I roused the people, and had a delight- 
ful ride of one parasang to Shurror, distant four para- 
sangs from Khoock. Here I was accommodated by 
the great man with a stable, or \vinter room, for they 
build it in such a strange vicinity, in order to liave it 
warm in winter. At present, while the weather is still 
hot, the smell is at times overpowering. At eleven 
at night we moved off, with fresh horses, for Duwala; 
but though we had guides in abundance, we were not 
able to extricate ourselves from the ravines with which 
this village is surrounded. Procuring another man frcfh 
a village we happened to wander into, we at last made 
our way, through grass and mire, to the pass, which 
led us to a country as dry as the one we had left was 
wet. Ararat was now quite near : at the foot of it is 
Duwala, six parasangs from NackshanT'where we ar- 
rived at seven in the morning of 

*' Sept. 9. — As I had been thinking all night of a 
Hebrew letter, I perceived little of the tediousness of 
the way. I tried also some difficulties in the IGth 
Psalm, without being able to master them. All day 
on the 15th and 16th Psalm, and gained some light in- 
to the difficulties. The villagers not bringing the 
horses in time, we were not able to go on at night ; 



nOMEWARDS. 353 

but I was not much concerned, as I thereby gained 
some rest, 

*' Sept. 10. — All day at the village, writing down 
notes on the 15ih and IGlh Psalm. Moved at mid- 
night and arrived early in the morninir-at Erivan. 

'•Sept. 11.— I alighted at llosyn Khan, the govern- 
or's palace, as it my be called, tor he seems to live in 
a style equal to that of a prince. Indeed, commanding 
a fortress on the frontier, within six hours of the Rus- 
sians, he is entrusted with a considerable force, and 
is nearly independent of the Shah. After sleeping two 
hours, I was summoned to his presence. He at first 
took no notice of me, but continued reading his Koran, 
it being the INIohnrrun. After a compliment or two, 
he resumed his devotions. The next ceremony was to 
exchange a rich shawl dress for a still richer pelisse, 
on pretence of its being cold. The next display was 
to call for his physician, who, after respectfully feel- 
ing his pulse, stood on one side : this was to shew 
that he had a domestic physician. His servants were 
most richly clad. My letter from the ambassador, 
w^hich till now had lain neglected on the ground, was 
opened and read by a Moonshee. He heard with great 
interest what Sir Gore had written about the transla- 
tion of the Gospels. After this he was very kind and 
attentive, and sent for Lieutenant M cf the engi- 
neers, who was stationed, with two Serjeants, at this 
fort. In the afternoon, the governor sent for me again 
in private. A fountain, in a basin of white marble, 
was playing before him, and in it water grapes and me- 
lons were cooling; two time-pieces were before him, 
to shew the approach of the time of lawful repast : 
below the window, at a great depth, ran a broad and 
rapid stream, over rocks and stones, under a bridge of 
two arches, producing an agreeable murmur : on the 
other side of the river were gardens, and a rich plain ; 
and directly in front, Ararat. He was now entirely 
free from ceremony, but too much fatigued to converse. 



35Q yisiT TO 

f liried to t)egin a religious discussion, by observing 
that 'he was in one paradise now, and was in quest 
of another hereafter,' but this remark produced no ef- 
fect. He ordered for me a Mihman^ler, a guard and 
four horses, with which a Turk had just come from 

Cars. Lieut, M dined and passed the rest" of the 

^yening with us," 

-*' Sept. 12, — The horses not bein^ ready for me ac- 
cording to my order, I rode alone, and found my way 
to Ech-Miazin (or Three Churches,) two and a half 
parasangs distant. Directing my course to the largest 
church, I found it enclosed by some other buildings 
and a wall. Within the entrance, I found a large court, 
with monks, cowled aud gowned, moving about. On 
seeing my Armenian letters, they brought me to the 
patriarch's lodge, where I found two bishops, one of 
whom was Nestus, at breakfast on pilaws, kubebs, 
wine, arrack, &e. and Serafino with them. As he spoke 
JSnglish, French, and Italian, I had no difficulty in 
communicating with my hosts. After breakfast, Se- 
raiino shewed me the room appointed for me, and sat 
down and told me his story. His proper name, in Arme- 
nian, is Serope; he was born at Erzerum, of Armenian 
j^oman Catholic parents. His father dying when he 
•was young, his mother intrusted him to the care of the 
missionaries, to be carried to Rome to be educated. 
There he studied eight years, and became perfectly 
Europeanized. At eighteen or twenty he left Rome, 
and repaired to Mount Libanus, where he was ordain* 
e<i ; and there his eyes were opened to^ the falsehood 
oi the Pope's pretensions. After this he served th6 
Armenian church at Erzerum, and then at Cars, after 
which he went to Bagdad. Receiving at this time an 
invitation from the patriarch at Ech-Miazin, to join 
their body, he consented, on condition that he should 
not be considered as a common monk ; and according- 
ly he is regarded with that deference which his talents 
^Rd superior infojrmation demand. He is exerting 



L'Cn-MlAZlN. S57 

himself to extend his influence in the monastery, for 
the purpose of executing some plans he has formed 
for the improvement of the Armenians. The monas- 
tery, and consequently the whole of the Armenians, 
are under the direction of Xestus, one of the bishops ; 
for the patriarch Kphraim is a mere cypher, and passes 
most of his time in bed. About three years ago, 
Nestus succeeded in forming a synod for the manage- 
ment of the business of the churcli, consisting of eight 
bishops, in which of course, he is all powerful. The 
patriarch is elected by twelve bishops. One member 
alone of the synod is a man of any ability, and he 
sometimes ventures to differ from Nestus. The ob- 
ject which Serope has at heart is a college, to teach 
the Armenian youth logic, rhetoric, and the other sci- 
ences. The expediency of this is acknowledged, but 
they cannot agree about the place where the college 
should bo. Serope, considering the danger to which 
the cathedral seat is exposed, from its situation be- 
tween Russia, Persia, and Turkey, is for building it 
at Teflis. Nestus, on the contrary, considering that 
Ech-INIiazin is the spot appointed by heaven, accord- 
ing to a vision of Gregory, for the cathedral seat, and 
so sanctified, is for having it there. The errors and 
superstitions of his people were the subject of Serope's 
conversation the whole morning, and seemed to be 
the occasion of real grief to him. He intended, he said, 
after a f-w more months' trial of what he conlJ do 
here, to retire to India, and then writo and print some 
works in Arrneiiitin, tending to enligliten llie people 
with regard to religion, in order to introduce a reform. 
I said a.l I cy.vd to ( neo-'ra^e 1 i a i i s :ch a blessed 
work : promising him every aid froju the English, and 
proving to him, from the exanjple of Luther and the 
other European reformers, that, however arduous the 
work might seem, God w^ould surely be with him to 
help him. I mentioned the awful neglect of the Ar- 
menian clergy, in never preaching ; as thereby the 



358 VISIT TO 

glad tidings of a Saviour were never proclaimed. Hd 
made no reply to this, but that ' it was to be lamented, 
as the people were never called away from vice.' 
When the bell rang for vespers, we went together to 
the great church. The ecclesiastics, consisting of ten 
bishops and other monks, with, the choristers, were 
drawn up in a semicircle fronting the altar, for a view 
of which the church-door was left open. Serope fell 
into his place, and Went through a few of the ceremo- 
nies ; he then took me into the church, never ceasing 
to remark upon the ignorance and superstition of the 
people. Some of his Catholic prejudices against Lu- 
ther seemed to remain. The monks dined together in 
the hall at eleven; at night each sups in his own room. 
Serope, Nestus, and two or three others, form a party 
of themselves, and seldom dine in the hall ; where 
coarseness, both of meals and manners, too much pre- 
vails. ^ 

*' Sept. 13. — I asked Serope about the 16th Psalm 
in the Armenian version ; he translated it into correct 
Latin. In the afternoon I waited on the Patriarch ; it 
was a visit of great ceremony. He was reclining on 
a sort of throne, placed in the middle of the room. All 
Stood, except the two senior bishops ; a chair was set 
for me on the other side, close to the patriarch ; at my 
right hand stood Serope, to interpret. The patriarch 
had a dignified, rather than a venerable appearance. 
His conversation consisted in protestations of sincere 
attachment, in expressions of his hopes of deliverance 
from the Mahometan yoke, and inquiries about my 
translations of the scriptures ; and he begged me to 
consider myself as at home in the monastery. Indeed, 
their attention and kindness are unbounded : Nestus 
and Serope anticipate my every wish. I told the pa- 
triarch, that I was so happy in being here, that, did 
duty permit, I could almost be willing to becoTne a 
monk with them. He smiled, and fearing, perhaps, 
that I was in earnest^ said; that they had auite enough. 



ECH-MIAZIN. 359 

Their number is a hundred, I think. The church was 
immensel)^ rich till about ten years ago ; when, by- 
quarrels between two contending patriarchs, one of 
whom is still in the monastery in disgrace, most of their 
money was expended in referring their disputes to the 
Mahometans as arbitrators. There is no difficulty, 
however, in replenising their coffers : their merchants 
in India are entirely at their command. 

" Sept. 15. — Spent the day in preparing, with Se- 
Tope, for the mode of travelling in Turkey. All my 
heavy and expensive preparations atTebriz prove to be 
incumbrances, which must be left behind : my trunks 
were exchanged for bags : and my portable table an(J 
chair, several books, large supplies of sugar, &c. were 
condemned to be left behind. My humble equipments 
were considered as too mean for an English gentle-^ 
man ; so Serope gave me an English bridle and sad- 
dle. The roads in Turkey being much more infested 
with robbers than those of Persia, a sword was brought 
for me. My Armenian servant, Sergius, was, also, to be 
armed with a gun and sword, but it was determined that 
he was unfit for the journey ; so a brave and trusty 
man of the monastery, named Melcom, was appointed 
in his stead, and he had arms of his own ;— he spes^ks 
nothing but Turkish. 

*' Sept. 16. — I conversed again with Serope on his 
projected reformation. As he was invited to Ech-Mi- 
azin for the purpose of educating the Armenian youth 
for the ministry, he has a right to dictate in all that 
concerns that matter. His objection to Ech-Miazin 
is, that from midnight to sun-rise all the members of 
the monastery must attend prayers ; this requires all tp 
be in bed immediately after sun-set. The monks are 
chiefly from the neighbourhood of Erivan, and were 
originally singing-boys ; into such hands is this rich 
and powerful foundation fallen. They have no vowa 
upon them but those of celibacy. 

The hospitable and benevolent conduct of the inter* 



S60 VISIT TO 

esting" society at Ech-Miazin,* made a deep impres- 
nian upon the feeling mind of their ^uest : — received 
by them as a brother, he left them with sentiments of 
fraternal regard, and no doubt his heart swelled with 
grateful recollections of peculiar strength, when the 
kindness he had experienced in the bosom of an A.rme- 
meiiian monastery, was brought into contrast with that 
Mahometan iiihospitality and cruelty, to which in a 
short time he Avas subjected. 

'' At six in tlie morning of September 17," Mr. Mar- 
t3^n writes, *' accompanied by Serope, one bishop, the 
secretary, and several servantsof tlie monastery, I left 
Ech-Miazin. My party now consisted of two men 
from the governor of Erivan, a Mihmander, and a 
guard ; my servant Sergius, for whom the monks in- 
terceded, as he had some business at Constantinople; 
one trusty servant from the monastery, Melcom, who 
carried my money ; and two baggage-horses Avith their 
owners. The monks soon returned, and w^e pursued 
our way over the plain of Ararat. At twelve o'clock 
reached Quila Gaski, about six parasangs from Ech- 
Miazin. The Mihmander rode on, and got a good place 
for me. 

^ " Sept. 18. — Rose with the daw^n, in hopes of going 
this stage before breakfast, but the horses were not 
ready. I set off at eight, fearing no sun, though 1 found 
it at times very oppressive when there was no wind. 
At the end of three hours we left the plain of Ararat, 
the last of the plains of modern Persia in this quarter. 
Meeting here with the Araxes again, I undressed and 
plunged into the stream. While hastening forward 
with the trusty Melcom, to rejoin my party, we were 
overtaken by a spearman, with a lance of formidable 
length: I did not think it likely that one man would 
venture to attack two, both armed; but the spot was a 

* For the interest the Armenians excite in a missionary point of 
view, Bee Dr. Buchanan's Christian Researches. 



ECH-MIAZIN. 3B1 

noted one for robbers, and very well calculated, by its 
solitariness, for deeds of privacy ; however, he was 
friendly enough. He had, however, nearly done me 
a mischief. On the bank of the river we sprung a 
covey of partridges : instantly he laid his lance under 
him across the horse's back, and fired a horse-pistol 
at them. His horse, starting at the report, came upon 
mine, with the point of the spear directly towards me, 
80 that I thought a wound for myself or horse was ine- 
vitable; but the spear passed under my horse. We 
were to have gone to Hagi-Buhiram, but finding the 
head-man of it at a village a few furlongs nearer, we 
stopped there. We found him in a shed outside the 
walls, reading his Koran, with his sword, gun, and pistol 
by his side. He was a good-natured farmer-looking 
man, and spoke in Persian. Hechantedthe Arabic with 
great readiness and asked me, whether I knew what 
that book was? 'Nothing less than the great Koran !' 
Sept. 19. — Left the village at seven in the morning, 
and as the stage was reputed to be very dangerous, ow- 
ing to the vicinity of the famous Cara Beg, my Mih- 
mander took three armed men from the village in ad- 
dition to the one we brought from Erivan. We con- 
tinued going along, through the pass, two or three 
parasangs, and crossed the Araxes three times. We 
then ascended the mountains on the north, by a road, if 
not so steep, yet as long and difficult as any of the 
cotuls of Bushire. On the top we found table-land, 
along which we moved many a tedious mile, expecting 
every minute we should have a view of a fine cham- 
paign country below ; but dale followed dale, appa- 
rently in endless succession, and though at such a 
height there was very little air to relieve the heat, 
and nothing to be seen but barren rocks. One part, 
however, must be excepted, where the prospect opened 
to the north, and we had a view of the Russian ter- 
ritory ; so that we saw at once Persia, Russia, and 
Turkey. At length we came to an Armenian village, 
2 H 



363 RI8 JOCTEZCET 

situated in a hollow of these mountains, on a decliri« 
ty. The village presented a singular appearance, 
being filled with conical piles of peat, for they have 
no fire-wood. Around, there was a great deal of cul- 
tivation, chiefly corn. Most of the low land from 
Tebriz to this place is planted with cotton, Palma 
Christie and rice. This is the first village in Turkey; 
not a Persian cap was to be seen ; the respectable 
people wore a red Turkish cap. The great man of 
the village paid me a visit; he was a }'oung Mussul- 
man, and took care of all my Mussulman attendants ; 
but he left me and my Armenians where he found us, 
at the house of an Armenian, without offering his ser- 
vices. I was rather uncomfortably lodged, my room 
being a thoroughfare for horses, cows, buffaloes, and 
sheep. Almost all the village came to look at me. 
The name of this village is Fiwick, it is distant six 
parasanjrs forom the last; but we were eight hours 
accomplishing it, and a cafila would have been twelve. 
We arrived at three o'clock— both horses and men 
much fatigued. 

" Sept. 20. — From-day-break to sun-rise I walked, 
then breakfasted, and set out. Our course lay north, 
over a mountain ; an<l here danger was apprehended ; 
it was indeed, dismally solitary all around. The ap- 
pearance of an old castle on the top of a crag was 
the first occasion on which our guard got their pieces 
ready, and one rode forward to reconnoitre : but all there 
was as silent as the grave. At last, after travelling 
five hours, we saw some men : our guard again took 
their places in front. Our fears were soon removed 
by seeing carts and oxen. Not so the opposite party ; 
for my baggage was so small, as not to be easily per- 
ceived. They halted therefore, at the bottom^ to- 
wards which we were both descending, and those of 
them who had guns, advanced in front and hailed us. 
We answered peaceably ; but they, still distrusting 
us, as we advanced nearer, cocked their pieces : soon, 



H0MSWARD8. 163 

however, we came to a parley. They were Armeni- 
ans, bringing wood from Cars to their village in the 
mountain : they were hardy, fine young men, and 
some old men who were with them were particularly 
venerable. The dangerous spots being passed through, 
my party began to sport with their horses ; — galloping 
across the path, brandishing their spears or sticks ; 
they darted them just at the moment of wheeling round 
their horses, as if that motion gave them an advan- 
tage. Tt struck me that this, probably, was the mode 
of fighting of the ancient Parthians, which made them 
80 terrible in flight. PiVsently after these gambols, 
the appearance of some poor countrymen with iheir 
carts, put into their headc; another kind of sport ; for 
knowing from the ill fame of the spot, that we should 
easily be taken for robbers, four of them galloped for- 
ward, and by the time we reached them, one of the 
carters was opening a bag to give them something. I 
was, of course, very much displeased, and made 
signs to him not to do it. I then told them all, as we 
quietly pursued our course, that such kind of sport 
was not allowed in England : They said it was the 
Persian custom. We arrived at length at Ohanikew, 
having ridden six hours and a half without intermis- 
sion. The Mihmander was for changing his route 
continually, either from real or pretended fear. One 
of Cara Beg's men saw me at the village last night, 
and as he would probably g-et intelligence of my in- 
tended route, it was desirable to elude him. But af- 
ter all, we went the shortest way, through the midst 
of danger, if there was any, and a gracious providence 
kept all mischief at a distance. Ghanikew is only 
two parasangs from Cars, but I stopped there, as I 
saw it was more agreeable to the people ; besides 
which, I wished to have a ride before breakfast. I 
was lodged in a stable-room, but very much at my 
ease, as none of the people of the village could come 
at me without passing through the house." 



364 HIS JOURNEY 

"Sep. 21. — Rode into Cars. Its appearance is 
quite European, not only at a distance, but within. 
The houses all of stone ; streets with carts passing ; 
some of the houses open to the. street ; the fort on an 
uncommonly high rock ; such a burying ground I never 
saw; — there must be thousands of grave stones. The 
Mihmander carried me directly to the governor, who, 
having just finished his breakfast, was, of course, 
asleep, and could not be disturbed ; but his head-man 
carried me to an Armenian's house, with orders to live 
at free quarters there. The room at the Armenian's 
was an excellent one up-stairs, facing the street, fort 
and river, with a bow containing five windows, under 
which were cushions. As soon as the Pacha was 
visible, the chief Armenian of Cars, to whom I had a 
letter from Bishop Nestus, his relation, waited upon 
him on my business. On looking over my letters of 
recommendation from Sir Gore Ouseley, I found 
there was none for Abdalla, the Pacha of Cars ; how- 
ever, the letter to the governor of Erivan secured all 
I wanted. He sent to say I was welcome ; that if 
I liked to stay a few days, he should be happy ; but 
that if I was determined to go on to-morrow, the ne- 
cessary horses, and ten men for a guard, were all rea- 
dy. As no wish was expressed of seeing me, I was 
of course, silent upon that subject." 

" Sept. 22. — Promises were made that every thing 
should be ready at sun-rise, but it was half past nine 
before we started, and no guard presentjbut the Tar- 
tar. He presently began to show his nature, by flog- 
ging the baggage-horse with his long whip, as one 
who was not disposed to allow loitering ; but one of 
the poor beasts presently fell with his load, at full 
length, over a piece of timber lying in the road. While 
this was setting to rights, the people gathered about 
me, and seemed more engaged with my Russian boots 
than with any other part of my dress. We moved 
south-west, and after five hours and a half reached 



HOMEWARDS. 365 

Jeula. The Tartar rode forward, and got the coffee- 
room at the poat-house ready. The coffee-room has 
one side raised and covered with cushions, and on 
the opposite side cii-shions on the ground : the rest of 
the room was left with bare stones and timbers. As 
the wind blew very cold yesterday, and I had caught 
cold, the Tartar ordered a great fire to be made. In 
this room I should have been very much to my satis- 
faction, had not the Tartar taken part of the same 
bench ; and many other people made use of it as a 
public room. They, were continually consulting my 
watch, to know how near the hour of eating approach- 
ed. It was evident that the Tartar was the great man 
here; he took the best place for himself; a dinner of 
four or five dishes was laid before him. When I 
asked for eggs, they brought me rotten ones ; for but- 
ter they brought me ghee. The idle people of the 
village came all night and smoked till morning. It 
was very cold, there being a hoar frost. 

** Sept. 23. — Our way to-day lay through a forest 
of firs ; and the variety of prospect it afforded, of hill 
and dale, wood and lawn, was beautiful and romantic. 
No mark of human workmanship was any where visi- 
ble for miles, except where some trees had fallen by 
the stroke of the woodman. We saw, at last, a few 
huts in the thickest clumps, which was all we saw of 
the Curds, for fear of whom I was attended by ten 
armed horsemen. . We frightened a company of vil- 
lagers a^ain to-day. They were bringing wood and 
grass from the forest, and on seeing us, drew up. 
One of our party advanced and fired ; such a rash 
piece of sport I thought must have been followed by 
serious mischief, but all passed off very well. With 
the forest I was delighted ; the clear streams in the 
valleys, the lofty trees crowning the summit of the 
hills, the smooth paths winding away and losing 
themselves in the dark woods, and above all, the 
solitude that reigned throughout, composed a scene 
2h9 



366 HIS JOUllNKY 

which tended to harmonize and solemnize the mind. 
What displays of taste and magnificence are found 
occasionally on this ruined earth ! Nothing was 
wanting to-day but the absence of the Turks ; to avoid 
the sight and sound of whom I rode on. After a ride 
of nine hours and a half we reached Mijingud, in the 
territory of Erzerum ; and having resolved not to be 
annoyed in the same way as last night, I left the Tar- 
tar in the undisturbed possession of the post-house, 
and took up my quarters at an Armenian's ; where, in 
the stable-room, I expected to be left alone ; but a 
Georgian young man, on his way from Ech-Miazin, 
going on a pilgrimage to Moosk, where John the Bap- 
tist is supposed to be buried, presumed on his assi- 
duous attentions to me, and contrived to get a place for 
himself in the same room. 

" Sept. 24. — A long and sultry march over many a 
hill and vale. In the way, two hours from the last 
stage, is a hot spring : the water fills a pool, having 
four porches. The porches instantly reminded me 
of Bethesda's pool : they were semi-circular arches 
about six feet deep, intended, seemingly, for shelter 
from the sun. In them all the party undressed and 
bathed. The Tartar, to enjoy himself more perfectly, 
had his calean to smoke while up to his chin in water. 
We saw nothing else on the road to-day, but a large 
and opulent family of Armenians, men, w^omen, and 
children, in carts and carriages, returning from a pil- 
grimage to Moosk. After eleven hours and a half, 
including the hour spent at the warm spring, we, were 
overtaken by the dusk ; so the Tartar brought us to Og- 
hoomra, where I was placed in an Armenian's stable- 
room. 

" Sept. 25. — Went round to Husur-Quile, where we 
changed horses. 1 was surprised to see so strong a 
fort and so large a town. From thence we ,were five 
hours and a half reaching the entrance of Erzerum. 
All was busy and moving in the streets and shops — 



HOMEWARDS. S67 

crowds passing along. Those who caught a sight ol' 
us were at a loss to define me. My Persian tittend- 
ants, and the lower part of my dress, made me ap- 
pear Persian ; hut the rest of the dress was new, for 
those only who had travelled knew it to be European. 
They were not disposed, I thought, to be civil ; but the 
two persons who preceded us kept all in order. I felt 
myself in a Turkish town; the red cap, and stateliness, 
and rich dress, and variety of turbans, was realized 
as I had seen it in pictures. There are here four thousand 
Armenian families, and but one church : there are 
scarcely any Catholics, and they have no church. 

'' Sept. 29. — Left Erzerum with a Tartar and his 
son, at two in the afternoon. We moved to a village, 
where I. was attacked with fever and ague : the Tar- 
tar's son was also taken ill, and obliged to return. 

" Sept. 30.-^Travelled first to Ashgula, where we 
changed horses, and from thence to Purnugaban, where 
we halted for the night. I took nothing all day but 
tea, and was rather better ; but head-ache and loss of 
appetite depressed my spirits ; yet my soul rests in 
him who is "as an anchor of the soul, sure and stead- 
fast," which, though not seen, keeps me fast. 

"Oct. 1. — Marched over a mountainous tract: we 
were out from seven in the morning till eight at night. 
After sitting a little by the fire, I was near fainting 
from sickness. My depression of spirits led me to 
the throne of grace, as a sinful, abject, worm. When 
I thought of myself and my transgressions, I could 
find no text so cheering as, ' My ways are not as your 
ways.' From the men who accompanied Sir William 
Ouseley to Constantinople, I learned that the plague 
was raging at Constantinople, and thousands dying 
every day. One of the Persians had died of it. They 
added, that the inhabitants of Tocat were flying from 
their town from the same cause. Thus I am passing 
inevitably into imminent danger. O Lord, thy will . 
be done ! Living or dying, remember me ! 



^6d BVFttRS MUCH 

" Oct. 2. — Some hours before day, I sent to tell the 
Tartar I was ready, but Hassan Aga was for once rivet- 
ed to his bed. However, at eight, having got strong 
horses, he set off at a great rate, and over the level ground 
he made us g.illop as fast as the horses would go to Chi- 
flick, where we arrived at sun-set. I was lodged, at 
my request, in the stables of the post-house, not liking 
the scrutinizing impudence of the fellows who frequent 
the coffee-room. As soon as it began to grow a little 
cold, the ague came on, and then the fever : after which 
1 had a sleep, which let me know too plainly the dis- 
order of my frame. In the night, Hassan sent to sum- 
mon me away, but 1 was quite unable to move. Find- 
ing me still in bed at the dawn, he began to storm fu- 
riously at my detaining him so long ; but I quietly 
let him spend liis ire, ate my breakfast composedly, 
and set out at eight. He seemed determined to make 
up for the delay, for we flew over hill and dale to She- 
rean, where he changed horses. From thence we 
travelled all the rest of the day and all night; it rain- 
ed most of the time. Soon after sun-set the ague came 
on again, which, in my wet state, was very trying ; I 
hardly knew how to' keep my life in me. About that 
time there was a village at hand ; but Hassan had no 
mercy. At one in the morning we found two men un- 
der a wain, with a good fire ; they could not keep the 
rain, out, but their fire was acceptable. I dried my low- 
er extremities, allayed the fever by drinking a good 
deal of water, and went on. We had little rain, but, 
the night was pitchy dark, so that I could not see the 
road under my horse's feet. However, God being mer- 
cifully pleased to alleviate my bodily suffering, I went 
on contentedly to the mimzil, where we arrived at break 
of day. After sleeping three or four hours, I was visit- 
ed by an Armenian merchant, for whom I had a letter. 
Hassan was in great fear of being arrested here ; the 
governor of the city had vowed to make an example 
of him for riding to death a horse belonging to a man 



FROM FEVER. 



369 



of this place. He begged that 1 would shelter him in 
case of danger ; his being claimed by an E nglishman, he 
said, would be a sufficient security. I found, however, 
that I had no occasion to interfere. He hurried me 
away from this place without delay, and galloped fu- 
riously towards a village, which, he said, was four 
hours distant ; which was all I could undertake in my 
present weak state ; but village after village did he 
pass, till night coming on, and no signs of another, I 
suspected that he was carrying me on to the munzil ; 
so I got off my horse, and sat upon the ground, and 
told him, 'I neither could nor would go any further.' 
He stormed, but 1 was immoveable ; till, a light ap- 
pearing at a distance, I mounted my horse and made 
towards it, leaving him to follow or not, as he pleas- 
ed. He brought in the party but would not exert him- 
self to get a place for me. They brought me to an 
open verandah, but Sergius told them I wanted a place 
in which to be alone. This seemed very offensive to 
them; 'And why must he be alone?' they asked; 
ascribing this desire of mine to pride, I suppose. Tempt- 
ed, at last, by money, they brought me to a stable- 
room, and Hassan and a number of others planted them- 
selves there with me. My fever here increased to a 
violent degree ; the heat in my eyes and forehead was 
so great, that the fire almost made me frantic. I en- 
treated that it might be put out, or that I might be car- 
ried out of doors. Neither was attended to : my ser- 
vant, who, from my sitting in that.strange way on the 
ground, believed me delirious, was deaf to all I said. 
At last I pushed my head in among the luggage, and 
lodged it on the damp ground, and slept. 

" Oct. 5. — Preserving mercy made me see the 
light of another morning. The sleep had refreshed 
me, but I was feeble and shaken ; yet the merciless 
Hassan hurried me off. The munzil, however, not 
being distant, I reached it without much difficulty, I 
expected to have found it another strong fort at the end 



370 HIS DEATH 

of the pass ; but it is a poor little village within the 
jaws of -the mountains. I was pretty well lodged, and 
felt tolerably well till a little after sun-set, when tho 
ague came on with a violence I had never before ex- 
perienced : I felt as if in a palsy ; my teeth chattering, 
and my whole frame violently shaken. Aga Hosyn 
and another Persian, on their way here from Constan- 
tinople, going to Abbas Mirza, whom I had just be- 
fore been visiting, came hastily to render me assist- 
ance if they could. These Persians appear quite bro- 
therly after the Turks. While they pitied n e, Has- 
san sat in perfect indiflferehce, ruminating on the fur- 
ther delay this was likely to occasion. The cold fit, 
after continuing two or three houfs, was followed by a 
fever, which lasted the whole night, and prevented 



*' Oct. 6. — No horses being in hp. had, I had an unex- 
pected -repose. I sat in the orchard, and thought, with 
sweet comfort and peace, of my God ; in solitude, my 
company, my friend and comforter. Oh ! when shall 
time give place to eternity ! When shall appear that 
new heaven and new earth wherein dwelleth righteous- 
ness ! There, there shall in no wise enter in any thing 
that defileth : none of that wickedness which has made 
men worse than wild beasts — none of those corruptions 
which add still more to the miseries of mortality, shail 
be seen or heard of any more:" — 

Scarcely had Mr". Martyn breathed these aspirations 
after that state of blissful purity, for which he had at- 
tained such a measure of meetness — when he was cal- 
led to exchange a condition of pain, weakness, and 
suffering, for that everlasting "rest which remaineth 
for the people of God." 

At Tocat, on the 16th of October, 1812, either fall- 
ing a sacrifice to the plague, which then raged there, 
or, sinking under that disorder which, when he pen- 
ned his last words, had so greatly reduced him, he sur- 
rendered his soul into the hands of his Redeeaier. 



AT TOCAT. 37 t 

The peculiar circumstances, as well as the particu- 
lar period of his death, could not fail of greatly aggra- 
vating the affliction of his friends — who, amidst anx- 
ious hopes and fears, were expecting his arrival either 
in India or England. He had not completed the thirty- 
second year of a life of eminent activity and usefulness, 
and he died whilst hastening towards his native coun- 
try, that, having there repaired his shattered health, he 
might again devote it to the glory of Christ, amongst 
the nations of the east. There was something, also, 
deeply affecting in the consideration, that where ha 
sunk into his grave, men were strangers to him and 
to his God. No friendly hand was stretched out — no 
sympathising voice heard at that time, when the ten- 
der offices of Christian affection are so soothing and so 
delightful ; — no human hosom was there, on which 
Mr. Martyn could recline his head in the hour of lan- 
guishing. PauCcOribus lacrymis compositiises — -was a 
sentiment to which the feelings cf nature and friendship 
responded ; yet the painful reflection could not be ad- 
mitted — Li novissima luce desidcravere al'qiud ocull iuL 
The Saviour, doubtless, was with His servant in his 
last conflict, and he with Him the instant it terminated. 

So richly was the mind of Mr. Martyn endowed by 
the God of nature and of grace, that at no period could 
his death fail to be a subject of common lamentation 
to those who valued the interests of the church of 
Christ. 

*' He was in our hearts," observed one of his friends 
in India,* " we honoured him ; — wc loved him ; — we 
thanked God for him ; — we prayed for his longer con- 
tinuance amongst us ; — we rejoiced in the good he was 
doing : — we are sadly bereaved ! Where such fervent 
piety, and extensive knowledge, and vigorous under- 
standing, and classical taste and unwearied application, 
were all united, what might not have been expected? 

♦ The late R^v. Mr. Thomason. 



372 VIEW OF 

I cannot dwell upon the subject without feeling very 
sad. 1 stand upon the walls of Jerusalem, and seethe 
lamentable breach that has been made in them; — but 
it is the Lord ; — he gave, and he hath taken away." 

" Mr. Martyn," remarks another of his friends,* in 
describing more particularly his intellectual endow- 
ments — " combined in himself certain valuable but 
distinct qualities, seldom found together in the same 
individual. The easy triumphs of a rapid genius over 
first difficulties never left him satisfied with present at- 
tainments. His mind, which naturally ranged over a 
wide field of human knowledge, lost nothing of depth 
in its expansiveness. He was one of those few per- 
sons whose reasoning faculty does not suffer from their 
imagination, nor their imagination from their reasoning 
faculty; both, in him, were fully exercised, and were 
of a very high order. His mathematical acquisitions 
clearly left him without a lival of his own age ; and 
yet, to hav6 known only the employments of his more 
free and unfettered moments, would have led to ^he 
conclusion that poetry and the classics were his predo- 
minant passion." 

But the radiance of these talents, excellent as they 
were, was lost in the brightness of those Christian 
graces, by which he " shone as a light in the world, 
holding forth the word of life." In his faith there was 
a singular, a childlike simplicity : — great, consequent- 
ly, was its energy, both in obeying Christ, and in suf- 
fering for his name's sake ! By this, he could behold 
blossoms upon the rod, even when it was~^apparently 
dead ; and in those events which, like the captain of 
the Lord's host seen by Joshua, presented at first a 
hostile aspect — he could discern a favourable and a 
friendly countenance. Having listened to that ten- 
der and overwhelming interrogation of his Saviour, 
**Lovest thou me?" his love was fervently exercised 

* The R€V, C. J, Hoarc, Archdeacon of A^'inchester 



HIS CHARACTER. 375 

towards God and man, at all times, and in all places ! 
For it was not like the land-spring*, which runs violent- 
ly for a season, and then ceases ; but resembled the 
fountain which flows with a perennial stream from the 
recesses of the rock. His fear of God, and tenderness 
of conscience, and watchfulness over his own heart, 
could scarcely be surpassed in this state of sinful in- 
firmity. But. it was his humility that was most re- 
markable : — this might be considered as the warp of 
which the entire texture of his piety was composed ; 
and with this his other Christian graces were so inti- 
mately blended, as to beautify and adorn his whole de- 
meanour. It was, in truth, the accordance.and consent 
of various Christian attainments in Mr. Martyn, which 
were so striking. The symmetry of his stature in 
Christ, was as surprising as its height. That commu- 
nion which he held with his God, and which caused 
his face to shine, was ever chastened, like the patri- 
arch's of old, by the most awful reverence. The nearer 
the access with which he was favoured, the more deep- 
ly did he feel that he was but " sinful dust and ashes." 
No discordance could he discover between peace and 
penitence; no opposition between joy in God, and ut- 
ter abasement before him ; and, truly, in this, as in 
every other respect, had he thoroughly imbibed the 
spirit of his own church ; which, in the midst of one 
of her sublimest hymns of praise, leads her members 
to prostrate themselves before their Redeemer in these 
words of humiliation, ''Thou that takest away the 
sins of the world, have mercy* upon us." 

To be zealous without love ; or to have that which 
is miscalled charity, without decision of character, is 
neither difficult nor uncommon. Mr. Martyn's zeal was 
tempered with love, and his love invigorated by zeal. 
He combined, also, ardour with prudence ; gravity 
with cheerfulness ; abstraction from the world with an 
enjoyment of its lawful gratifications. His extreme 

2 1 



374 VIEW or 

tenderness of conscience was devoid of scrupulosity; 
his activity in good works was joined to habits of se- 
rious contemplation ; his religious affections, which 
were highly spiritualized, exceeded not the limits of 
the most cautious sobriety, and were so far from im- 
pairing his natural affections, that they raised and pu- 
rified them. 

Many sincere servants ni' Christ, lahnnr to attain hea- 
ven, but possess not any joyful hope of reaching it ; — 
many vain hypocrites are confident of their salvation, 
without striving to enter in at the strait gate. With 
the apostle, Mr. Martyn could say, " We are always 
confident ; — wherefore v^e labour, &c." Together with 
an assurance of his final and everlasting felicity, he 
had a dread of declension, and a fear of " losing the 
things he had wrought." He knew that the way to 
heaven was narrow, from the entrance to the end of it ; 
but he was persuaded that Christ was with him, walk- 
ing in the way, and that he would never leave him nor 
forsake him. 

As these extraordinary, and seemingly contradictory 
qualities, were not imparted to him but by the Spirit 
of God, so they were not strengthened and matured 
but in the diligent use of the ordinary means of grace. 
Prayer and the holy scriptures were those wells of sal- 
vation, out of which he drew daily the living water. 
Truly did he ' pray always, with all prayer and sup- 
plication in the Spirit, and watch thereunto with all 
perseverance.' Being ' transformed by the renewing 
of his mind,' he was also ever ' proving'what was that 
good and acceptable and perfect will of God.' 

The sabbath, that sacred portion of time, set apart 
for holy purposes in paradise itself, was so employed 
by him, as to prove frequently a paradise to his soul 
on earth ; and as certainly prepared him for an endless 
state of spiritual enjoyment hereafter. 

By » daily weighing the scriptures,' with prayer, he 
* wztxed riper and riper in his ministry,' in the execu- 



HIS PHARACTKR. 375 

tion of which divine office there was in him an asto- 
nishing determination of soul for the glory of his Sa- 
viour, who ' allowed him to be put in trust with the 
gospel.' Of the exceeding privileges of his holy func- 
tion, and of its awful responsibility, he had the most 
vivid impression ; and such was his jealousy of omit- 
ting any duty connected with it, that he deemed the 
work of translating the scriptures themselves no justi- 
fiable plea for inattention to any of its more immediate 
and direct engagements. Reviewing frequently his 
ordination vows, in that affecting service in which they 
were originally made, he became more and more anx- 
ious to promote the honour of his Redeemer, by preach- 
ing his gospel. This, indeed, was the great end for 
which existence seemed desirable in his eyes ; to ef- 
fect which he spent much time in preparing his dis- 
courses for the pulpit ; investigating the subject before 
him with profound meditation, and perpetual supplica- 
tion to the Father of Lights. Utllis lectio — ii>tilis ertir- 
ditto — sed magis ii,nctio necessaria, quippe quoe. docet dt 
omnibus* — were the sentiments of his heart. When, 
therefore, he stood up and addressed his hearers on the 
entire depravity of man — on the justification of the soul 
by faith in Jesus Christ — on the regenerating, and pro- 
gressively sanctifying influences of the Spirit; — when 
* knowing the terrors of the Lord,' he persuaded them 
to accept tlie offers of salvation ; — or when he besought 
them, by. the mercies of God, to present their bodies to 
Him, as a living sacrifice — he spake ' with uncorrupt- 
ness, gravity, sincerity, with sound words that could 
not be condemned ;' and none who knew their souls 
to be guilty, helpless, accountable, immortal, could 
listen to his preaching unmoved. In the delivery of 
his discourses, his natural manner was not good ; there 
being a defect in his enunciation ; this, however, was 
more than com'pensated by the solemnity, affection, and 

* St. Bernard. 



376 VIEW OF 

earnestness of his address. It should be added, also, 
that as practical subjects were discussed by him with 
constant reference to the peculiar doctrines of the gos- 
pel ; so likewise all doctrinal points were declared 
practically, with a view to self-application, rather than 
to disquisition. No one, as it regarded all doctrine, 
could enter more completely into the spirit of those 
words, both for himself and others ; — Malosentire com- 
puncttonem quam s^ire ejus dejinitionem. 

With an intense anxiety to save souls, Mr. Martyn 
had an implicit reliance on that grace which alone can 
make men wise unto salvation. He was deeply con- 
scious that it is ' God that giveth the increase ;' and 
when he did not see, or thought he did not see, that 
increase, he meekly submitted to the divine will, and 
patiently continued in well-doing. At such times, al- 
so, more particularly, would he turn, with joyful thank- 
fulness, to the contemplation of the successful labours 
of his brethren in the ministry ; for he had no mean 
or unholy envy respecting them ; nor had he what is 
so often allied to it, an arrogant or domineering temper 
towards his flock. His ambition was to be a helper 
of their joy ; he had no desire to have dominion over 
their faith. Too much had he of that beautiful part 
of a minister's character, a spirit which would sympa- 
thise with the poor and afflicted amongst his people, to 
court the appellation of Rabbi, or dogmatise with the air 
of a master of Israel. He was one of those little ones^ 
of whom Christ afiirms that whosoever receiveth them, 
receiveth him. To no one, indeed, would he give oc- 
casion to despise him ; but all the dignity to which he 
aspired was to be their servant, among whom he la- 
boured for Jesus' sake. " A more perfect character," 
says one who bore the burden and heat of the day with 
him in India,* " I never met with, nor expect to see on 
earth. During the four years we were* fellow-labour- 

* The Rev. D. Corrie, Archdeacon of Calcutta, 



HIS CHARACTER. 37'r 

era in this country, I had no less than six opportuni- 
ties of enjoying his company ; and every opportunity 
only increased my love and veneration for him." 

With respect to his labours, his own 'works praise 
him in the gates,' far above all human commendation. 

By him and by his means, part of the Liturgy of 
the Church of England, the Parables and the whole 
of the New Testament, were translated into Hindos- 
tanee— a language spoken from Delhi to Cape Comorin, 
and intelligible to many millions of immortal souls. 
By him and by his means, also, the Psalms of David 
and the New Testament were rendered into Persian, 
the vernacular language of two hundred thousand who 
bear the Christian name, and known over one fourth of 
the habitable globe. By him, also, the imposture of 
the Prophet of Mecca was boldly exposed, and the 
truths of Christianity openly vindicated, in the very 
heart and centre of a Mahometan empire. 

If success be demanded, it is replied, that this is 
not the inquiry with him * of whom are all things,' 
either in this world, or in that which is to come. 
With Him the question is this: What has been aimed 
at? what has been uiiended in singleness of heart? 

God, however, has not left Mr. Martyn without wit- 
ness, in the hearts of those who heard him. in Europe 
and in Asia. Above forty adults and twenty children, 
of the Flindoos, have received Christian baptism,--all 
of whom, with the exception of a single individual, 
were converted hy the instrumentality of one man,* 
who was himself the fruit of Mr. Martyn's ministry 
at Cawnpore. At Shiraz a sensation has been excit- 
ed, which, it is trusted, will not readily subside; and 
some Mahometans of consequence there have declared 
their conviction of the truth of Christianity ;— a con- 
viction which Mr. Martyn was the means of imparting 
to their minds. But when it is considered, that the 

* Abdool Messeeh. Sec Appendix B. 
2 i8 



378 VIEW OF HIS CHARACTER. 

Persian and Hindostanee scriptures are in wide and 
extensive circulation, who can ascertain the consequen- 
ces which may have already followed, or foresee what 
may hereafter accrue, from their dispersion 1 In this 
respect it is not, perhaps, too much to apply to Mr. 
Martyn those words, which once had an impious ap- 
plication ; — 

" Ex quo nunc etiamper raagnos didita gentes, 
Dulcia permulcent animos solatia vitje, — Lucret. 

Nor is the example which he has left behind him to 
be laid out of our account, in estimating the effects ot 
his holy and devoted life. He doubtless forsook all 
for Christ ; he loved not his life unto the death. He 
followed the steps of Zeigenbalg in the old world, and 
of Brainerd in the new ; and whilst he walks with 
them in white, for he is worthy — he speaks by his ex- 
ample, to us who are still on our warfare and pilgrim- 
age upon earth. For surely as long as England 
shall be celebrated for that pure and apostolical church 
of which he was so great an ornament ; as long as 
India shall prize that which is more precious to her 
than all her gems and gold; the name of the subject 
of this memoir, as a translator of the scriptures and 
of the liturgy, will not wholly be forgotten ; and whilst 
some shall delight to gaze upon the splendid sepul- 
chre of Xavier, and others choose rather to ponder 
over the granite stone which covers all that was mor- 
tal of Swartz ; there will not be wanting those who 
will think of the humble and unfrequented grave of 
Henry Martyn, and be led to imitate those works of 
mercy, which have followed him into the world of 
light and love. 



APPENDIX. 



Note A. Page 346. 

Translation of a Letter from his Persian Majesty to 
Sir Gore Ouseley, Bart. 

'' In the name of the Almighty God, whose glory is 
most excellent. 

'* It is our august command, that the dignified and 
excellent, our trusty, faithful, and loyal-well wisher, 
Sir Gore Ouseley, Baronet, his Britannic Majesty's 
Ambassador Extraordinary, (after being honoured and 
exalted with the expressions of our highest regard and 
consideration) should know, that the copy of the Gos- 
pel which was translated into Persian, by the learned 
exertions of the late Rev. Henry Martyn, and which 
has been presented to us by your Excellency, on the 
part of the high, dignified, learned, and enlightened 
Society of Christians, united for the purpose of spread- 
ing abroad the Holy Books of the Religion of Jesus, 
(upon whom, and upon all Prophets, be peace and bless- 
ing !) has reached us, -and has proved highly accept- 
able to our august mind. 

" In truth, through the learned and unremitting ex- 
ertions of the Rev. Henry Martyn, it has been trans- 
lated in a style most befitting sacred books ; that is, 
in an easy and simple diction. Formerly, the four evan- 
gelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, were known 
in Persia; but now the whole of the New Testament 
is completed in the most excellent manner ; and this 
circumstance has been an additional source of plea- 



880 APFXNDIZ. 

«ure to otir enlightened and august mind. Even the 
four Evangelists, which were known in this country, 
had never been before explained in so clear and lumi- 
nous a manner. We, therefore, have been particularly 
delighted with this copious and complete translation- 
Please the most merciful God, we shall command the 
select servants, who are admitted to our presence, to 
read to us the above-mentioned Book from the begin- 
ning to the end, that we may, in the most minute man- 
ner, hear and comprehend its contents. 

** Your excellency will be pleased to rejoice the 
hearts of the above-mentioned dignified, learned, and 
enlightened Society, with assurances of our highest re- 
gard and approbation ; and to inform those excellent 
individuals, who are so virtuously engaged in dissemi- 
inating and making known the true meaning and intent 
of the holy gospel, and other points in sacred books, 
that they are deservedly honoured with our royal fa- 
vour. Your excellency must consider yourself as bound 
•to fulfil this royal request. Given in Rebialavil. 1229. 

[Sealed.] FATEH ALI SHAH KAJAR." 

Note B. Page 377. 

Extract from Bishop Heber's Journal, vol. ii. p. 339. 

"*' Abdul Musseeh breakfasted this morning at Mr. 
Irving's ; he is a very fine old man, with a magnificent 
grey beard, and much more gentlemanly manners than 
any Christian native whom I have seen. His rank, 
indeed, previous to his conversion, was rather elevat- 
ed, since he was master of the jewels to the court of 
Oude, an appointment of higher estimation in eastern 
palaces than in those of Europe, and the holder of 
which has always a high salary. Abdul Musseeh's 
jpresent appointments, as Christian missionary, are sir- 



APPENDIX. 381 

ty rupees a month, and of this he gives away at least 
half. Who can dare to say that this man has chang- 
ed his faith from any interested motives 1 He is a very 
good Hindoostanee, Persian, and Arabic scholar, but 
knows no English. There is a small congregation of 
native Christians, converted by Mr. Corrie when he 
was chaplain at Agra, and now kept together by Abdul 
Musseeh. The earnest desire of this good man is to 
be ordained a clergyman of the church of England, 
and if God spares his life and mine, I hope, during the 
Ember weeks in this next autumn, to confer orders on 
him. He is every way fit for them, and is a most sin- 
cere Christian, quite free, so far as I could observe, 
from all conceit or enthusiasm. His long eastern dress, 
his long grey beard, and his calm, resigned counte- 
nance, give him already almost the air of an apostle."* 

*JVo^e by the Editor of bishop Heber's JoiimaL'—Ahdnl 
Musseeh was converted to Christianity, and baptized in the Old 
Church at Calcutta, when he was about forty years of age. He 
was subsequently employed for eight years by the Church Mis- 
sionary Society as Catechist, and received Lutheran ordination 
in the year 1820, from the hands of the missionaries of that 
society. In December, 1825, the bishop conferred on him, 
together with three other missionaries, the rite of episcopal or- 
dination ; the Articles, the various oaths, and the Ordination 
Service, having been translated for his use into Hindoostanee. 
The Bishop also read a considerable part of the ceremony in that 
language. Abdul Musseeh, immediately after, went to Luck- 
now, where he resided, with the exception of a visit to Cawn- 
pore, till his death, which happened on the 4th of March, 1827, 
occasioned by mortification proceeding from a neglected carbun- 
cle. The Resident, Mr. Rickets, who had always behaved to 
him with the utmost kindness and liberality, read the burial ser- 
vice at his grave, and ordered a monument to be erected to his 
memory, with an inscription in English and Persian. Among 
other bequests, Abdul Musseeh left his books to the Bible So- 
ciety.' 



THE END, 



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